The Consequences of Swimming
by ambie176
Summary: He hung his head slightly with a pout. She leaned up slowly and took his lips before parting slightly and whispering against them, “I can’t keep my hands off you for to long.”
1. Chapter One: Greg Get Out of That Pool!

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: What does a pool, Catherine Willows, and black panties have in common? That is what Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are about to find out.**

**Chapter One: Greg Get Out Of That Pool!**

* * *

"Greg! Wait for me!" Sara Sidle hissed after her blond friend. 

The moon was full, shining its soft, warm rays down upon the two as they ran through the yard outside of the relatively large home on all fours. Sara, dressed in a low cut, light blue halter top, low rise jeans, and high heals, was not exactly dressed for the situation at hand. Strings of her wavy brown hair fell in her face and her pony tail lay over her shoulders, making it even harder to see in the night. Children with creative costumes and light up pumpkins ran about the streets, parents at hand, going door to door screaming for candy, making it almost impossible to hear her friend as well.

"Sara we are on a time limit," he hissed seriously

"It's Halloween Greg, we are off duty and we are running around in somebody's yard!"

"And?"

"And what are we doing here?"

Sara glared out at him for a moment. She was crawling through a yard, probably going to get shot by some stranger for trespassing, and what were her friends doing? Dancing and enjoying the last day together before they all separated on their two week vacations. They were at the hottest club in Las Vegas and Sara was ruining her favorite jeans as she chased down her rambunctious co-worker.

When he had asked if she would like to have fun with him, she thought he meant a night at the strip, having sex in the hot tub, not that Sara would ever admit she thought about that; but she never expected to be crawling in a yard.

"Greg answer the question!"

"You will see Poohbear," he teased.

"I wanna see now Gregory."

"Poohbear you know how much it turns me on when you call me by my first name!"

Sara rolled here eyes as the continued through the front yard, toward the gate that headed to the back yard. She still didn't understand why she let Greg call her 'Poohbear'. Of all nicknames he could have thought of, the decided 'Poohbear' is the best option. If anyone else called her Poohbear, she would slaughter them, but when Greg said it, she simply ignored it. She had been teased about this many times, and the action didn't go unnoticed by most of the lab. She told the lab, she included, that it was because how close they were, her excuse for most things she let Greg Sanders slip by with.

Sara stood up as they reached the gate and rubbed at her jeans, trying to get the grass off, silently praying the stains would come out.

"If your jeans don't come clean, I will buy you a new pair," he whispered, inserting a key into the gate.

"Good. Greg, how did you get a key?"

"Shhhh, come on," he whispered, a mischievous smile on his face. He glanced back at her, holding out his hand for her to take it.

For a moment, she blinked at the hand and before she knew it, she had given her hand over. Greg threaded his fingers with hers, obviously getting the most out of the moment with her. Sara wasn't _completely oblivious_ about her friends feelings, although that he was actually head over heals about her; all she seemed to see was a close friendship. Everyone in the lab knew that the new csi was in love with Sara Sidle, everyone except Sara Sidle. She insisted that it was just friendly feelings because how they were best friends.

Sara looked around the back yard of the two story home in silence. It wasn't exceptionally large; most of it was shrubbery and rocks, which the city had replaced the stripped out grass with during the drought. Near the home, gated off from the rest of the yard, was a cobblestone area with picnic chairs, a large pool and a hot tub. Who ever owned this home was obviously wealthy, but not to stuck up to gloat it and spend every bit on the finest things.

She didn't even notice until a few minutes later that the blond was shedding his shirt and unbuckling his pants.

"Greg! What are you doing?" she hissed as he pulled off his socks and shoes.

Sara began to blush as she caught sight of his body. It was plain, that her friend had been working out since the mold infestation incident. His abs, not quiet the six pack Nick or Warrick had developed, was a six pack none the less. Her eyes skimmed his tanned, slightly freckled body before her eyes became stuck on his dark blue, plain boxers, which had the words _Abercrombie and Fitch_ outlined on the rim.

"Like what you see Sar'" he asked amused.

Sara blushed and looked off muttering about how she had seen it before. As he chuckled, she became an even darker shade of red.

"Sara, Sara, Sara. But it had gotten better since the shower hasn't it?"

"I plead the fifth," she whispered before she was drenched head to toe in water.

"Greg! Get out of the pool!"

"Come and get me and make Sara!" he teased.

"No! Greg get out of the pool now!"

"No."

"Fine if you get arrested I will testify against you," she mumbled and sat down at the edge of the pool.

She made no notice at first as her friend slowly swam toward her.

"Sara," he said slowly.

"What Greggo?"

"Take off your clothes now," he commanded as he grasped her ankles.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"Sara take off the clothes if you want anything left that is dry to wear."

"Greg no," she pleaded.

"Yes Sara. I will drag you in. Or you can come willingly."

"Greg please no. I don't like getting in pools."

"Why?"

"I-I- I can't swim in deep water," She stuttered

"Sara, I swear I wont let you drown. Please trust me," he whined

"Fine, but if I die I hope someone sues you Greg Sanders."

Sara stood up slowly after he let go of her legs and untied her halter top. She felt his eyes bore into her back and she hoped that he hadn't done this just to get her naked in some way.

She mentally slapped herself for thinking it. Greg wasn't that desperate and he would never do that to her. She pulled the blue material over her head and laid it neatly on the ground. After removing off her shoes and socks, she fiddled with the button of her jeans. She unzipped them slowly, her hands shaking as she pulled the denim over her hips and past her feet.

She at that point thanked herself gratefully for not wearing the red thongs she had laid out. She folded her clothes carefully and slid them away from the pool. She looked down at herself and immediately blushed. She still felt his eyes boring into her back and she could see why. She was fit, and if she did say so herself, didn't look too bad in her black lingerie.

"_Didn't look to bad?" Sara thought miserably. "Greg's ego is starting to rub off on me."_

Sara turned around as Greg let out a dog call. She smirked tilting her head as he stood at the edge, unable to take his eyes off her.

"Like what you see Greggo?" she said repeating his earlier words.

"Nothing I haven't seen before Poohbear."

"Greg, Greg, but it's gotten better, hasn't it?"

"Not really," he teased.

Sara let her mouth fall in surprise "Excuse me?"

Greg cracked up in laughter, looking up at her, his eyes glittering. "Caught you in surprise there?"

"No," she said sitting at the edge.

"Come on Poohbear, get in the pool."

"No," she whispered a smile forming on her lips.

"Sar' get in the pool," he whispered back, holding on to her ankles.

"Make me," she said daringly.

"Fine, I didn't want to go skinny dipping with you anyway."

"We aren't going skinny dipping Greg," She started "Yet."

"Does that mean you're getting pool?" he asked in high hopes.

"No."

"Fine, you leave me no choice."

And he pulled her into the water, unaware that the a small group of friends stood inside smiling and giving high-fives to each other in triumph.

* * *

**A/N: You like it? Yay? Nah? Review and tell me! **


	2. Chapter Two: She Wouldn’t Touch Him

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: What does Catherine Willows, black panties, and a pool have in common? Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are about to find out.**

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! I am glad you all like it :)**

**Chapter Two: She Wouldn't Touch Him With A Ten Foot Pole

* * *

**

_She stretched her fingers as the light of the laptop consumed the dark room. The old tattered couch leaned against the wall with the fair sized TV in opposite corner. The old bookcase, caked with dust and shaky from old age, stood in the same spot as it had for at least twenty years now. The antique wooden desk and chair sat against the wall, with photographs of old, but not forgotten, memories cluttered around the computer like every other vacant area. Pictures of a beautiful brunette with a gap in her teeth, donning a cream wedding dress and a small bump at her tummy. A blond, tall, lean man sporting a black tuxedo, fingers threaded together as the other pushed a piece of sweet wedding cake to their mouth. Another, where the brunette kissed off the icing on his mouth, not so sure if the cake was sweeter, or he was._

_Pictures, of people, different times in life with the same best friends together, surrounding each other. They were the only things that kept her memories alive now days. Catherine and Gil had passed now, Gil at least forty years ago with Catherine on the border line of 35. Warrick had lost Tina six years ago and now in a nursing home, because of his heart condition, was unable to live alone. Nick, other than herself, was the only one in good health._

_Now days, once a month, Nick would come from Texas, they would get Warrick and visit the diner. Three empty spots, with three untouched plates they left, in the warming memories the ones before them._

_It had been twenty years since she felt his warm body beside her, twenty years since she tasted that strange mixture of cinnamon, chocolate and Blue Hawaiian laced on his lips. And no matter how much her fingers ached, she kept typing for him._

* * *

The next thing Sara knew she was pulled from the concrete and compacted with the chlorine pool water. As Las Vegas was in the middle of the desert, and at night it fell to below freezing temperatures. Sara had been lucky that tonight, the middle of the summer and today had risen to above 100 degrees, the pool wasn't exactly freezing. But when her body impacted with the water, it felt like freezing rain drenched all over her.

She rose above the water, taking a deep gasp of air, and ignored the stinging sensation in her nose. She tried to send a pissed off glare toward his way, but failed miserably as she, somehow, doubled over in uncontrollable fits of laughter.

"I hate you," she whined as she danced around slightly in the shallow end of the pool.

"No you don't," he teased. "You love me."

"Really, you think so?" she asked raising her eyebrows.

"I don't think so," he started, "I know so."

"Really? Well how do you feel about this?"

And she launched herself at him, sending them both underwater.

* * *

"Catherine! Turn on the light, I can't see!" Nick hissed as he peered into the darkness.

"Oh and like I can!" she snapped.

"Stop fighting and turn on the light please!" Warrick pleaded.

"Were not fighting!" they hissed together.

Suddenly the lights blinked on and Nick looked over to see Grissom shaking his head by the light switch. Catherine mumbled thanks as she ran up the stairs and Warrick, Grissom and himself plopped down on the leather couch. Nick glanced around his surroundings. Catherine, after Sam died leaving her his fortune, she decided to buy a larger home so her mother, Lindsey, and herself could live together comfortably.

Pictures of Lindsey, her mother, Sam and Catherine lined the walls beside the steps. Flowers, vases, baskets and Longaburger pottery decorated the room. They were a large bookcase on the near side of the room, cluttered with books, scientific and romance novels, magazines. On the top two selves were picture frames, with candid moments of the many nights of goofing off after shift.

Nick stood in front of the book shelf, admiring the moments they had shared together. On the far left, was a photo of Catherine, Warrick, Grissom in the backdrop, Sara, Greg and himself surrounding the break room with glasses of champagne. He remembered the day well, it was the day Greg became an official CSI. In the photo he was pouring Cath' another glass while Greg and Sara were embraced in another hug. Greg had a smile on his face that looked like a kid on Christmas.

"Admiring?" she asked as she slipped behind him.

"Yeah, remember that day that Greg made CSI?"

"Yeah, Ecklie got pissed because we were celebrating."

'That was a great day. Greg looked so happy," he mused.

"But I don't think it was because he made CSI somehow," she teased.

"I don't think so either. I think they are good for each other," he started. "Hey Griss what do you think about Greg and Sara?"

Grissom looked over a Nick, pausing for a moment in an awkward silence. It wasn't anything new to them though; Grissom had been this way about Sara for a while now. After Sara broke it off with him, he had barely talked about her, or even looked at her. They all pressed him to get over her, because she had moved on. So should he.

"What about them?" he asked, finally speaking.

"As a ... Couple," Warrick explained.

"Greg and Sara? Together?"

They all nodded seriously just before Grissom started to chuckle.

"She wouldn't touch Greg with a ten foot pole."

"I don't know Griss," Warrick started. "Good ole' Greggo can lay down some pretty smooth moves."

"Never the less, I know Sara and she is attracted to mature men. It would never work."

"Yeah sure Gil," Warrick said amused.

SPLASH

Nick jerked his head toward the back door, where the loud sound had came from. Catherine was first to move toward the door. She let out a little giggle and smiled like mad. Curious, Nick walked toward the door. The sight made him double over in laughter, causing him have to clutch his sides and breathe slowly to try hard to stop. Soon they all crowded the door, giggling, save Gil of course, whom they all had made sure wasn't near the glass door.

"Your so right Gil," Catherine giggled, "She wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole."

"Yeah," Warrick agreed. "You know Sara so well."

"She seems to be doing pretty good without the pole buddy," Nick teased patting his muttering boss on the back.

"I think Greg is finally winning her over," Warrick whispered.

"I am so glad I talked Greg into this!" Catherine squealed.

"Matchmaker Cath'?"

"What?" she asked as her boss stood staring at her. "Someone had to do it!"

"Did he know we would be here?" Nick asked.

"No."

Suddenly Cath let out a gasp, but Nick didn't get to see anything. Because slowly but surly, her hands were placed over their eyes and they backed away from the door.

* * *

The water flooded them as she wriggled above him, grasping onto his shoulder to push him down further in the water. Sadly, Sara being a small person, was unable to keep control of her revenge. She ended up being flipped over and his arms wrapped around her underneath the surface. She twisted, kicked and turned playfully to try to get out of his grasp. She giggled, letting water bubbles float to the top as he poked her sides.

When they emerged from the water, their bodies soaked, yet warm to the touch from the close proximity of each other. Their faces was red as the laughed, unaware of the fact they were still wrapped in the other's arms. They seemed, to every on looker who might have been peeking out their windows, like they were having the time of their lives.

And indeed, they were.

Sara looked up into those hazel eyes, with a new found respect for him. Although what they were doing, in her mind now, was against the law, she didn't care. He brought something out in her that was so different it almost scared her.

He brought out a real person.

Not a woman so immersed in her work she didn't have a life. Not a woman who was lonely and all she had to do were listen to police scanners at night. Not a woman scared to live, but a woman who was fun and full of life. A person, who was happy.

A person so different than the one she had always known herself to be.

The next action, for whatever reason, was beyond her mind capacity. Maybe it was because how close they had grown over the past few months, maybe it was because a spur of hormones, maybe because she was having the best time of her life. But for whatever reason it was, she would have never guessed that it was because of an infatuation she had buried since the moment she met Greg Sanders.

For whatever reason, she kissed him.

His lips were sweet, tasting of a mixture of chocolate and cinnamon. Soft and warm from the very first, to the very last taste. They locked together, in a need, a want for something more from each other. Their bodies craved to cross that invisible line.

* * *

_She paused, letting the memory overwhelm her. The sweetness of their first taste was the most distinct memory in her mind, of course followed by their actions afterward. She chuckled slightly, how young, awkward and denying they were at first. So new to the experience of true young love, the connection of soul mates._

_The phone began to buzz beside her and she saved the document entitled The Consequences of Swimming._

* * *

**A/N: Did you like it? If you did, or if you didnt, tell me in a review!**


	3. Chapter Three: Perfectly Matching

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: When Sara agreed to leave with Greg Sanders, she couldn't have possibly seen what she had ahead of her.**

**A/N: Wow! Talk about being proud of reviewers! I am so proud, hands all reviewers a cookie. Ok, so it was brought to my attention that I didn't explain the italics, yes that is the story from the future. As many have guessed, it is Sara, she is 84 and Greg is dead, he died 20 years before hand. Only Nick and Warrick survive with her and their spouses are gone also.**

**Chapter Three: Perfectly Matching

* * *

**

_"Hello?" her voice was ragged now, worn with the age of 84 years and too much smoking when she was younger._

_"Grandmamma?" a shaky voice replied on the other end_

"_Diane? Is that you sweetie pie?" she asked, standing up slowly._

_She walked over to the kitchen, her cane in her hand. The doctor said she wasn't strong enough now to walk without one, it killed her to depend on something as horrible as a cane, but she really didn't have a choice in the matter. Grabbing a cup out of the dishwasher, she shakily picked up the coffee pot._

"_Yeah its me. Hey Grandmamma can I ask you . . . Can I ask you . . ."_

"_About Grandpapa?" she spoke softly, a smile forming on his lips._

"_Yeah," Diane replied surprised. _

"_Why don't you stop by, we can talk face to face."  
_

"_Sure, I will be over in about fifteen minutes," she started. "Love you Grandma."  
_

"_Love you too honey. Bye bye."_

_She slowly sat down the coffee pot, not taking her beady eyes of the glass until it was firmly in place. It wasn't that she was scared to drop the coffee pot again, but she was scared of getting down to pick it up and the possibility she might not be able to get back up alone. She hated it, her legs getting weaker as her days got shorter. It was times like this he always promised he would be there for her. _

"_When you get to old to walk on your own, I will be holding onto your arm," she whispered._

_But, he wasn't here to help her now. He wanted to be, she knew that. Neither of them had expected it. But even as the heartbreak almost killed her, she knew that she would go back and do it all over again. Because that meant reliving it all, having another moment, to be wrapped in his arms._

_She just wished that if she could do something different, it had been to realize he was perfect much longer before she did._

_Completely forgetting about the coffee, or her granddaughter, she sat down in her old chair and began to write where she left off._

* * *

Sara kissed at his lips, sweet, soft and warm to the first touch. The strange mixture or Blue Hawaiian and chocolate ran through her like an addiction. Toxic, sweet, warming, and gave you that buzz that your body longed for and got lost in. 

His wet tongue slipped across her bottom lip, making her quiver and long for him in ways she never predicted possible. She let out a soft purr, opening her mouth and drinking him in like everlasting water. His tongue teased her, grazing by her own just to let her get a feel of him.

He took his time with her, dominating over her, taking his way at his own pace. Most men she had been with never dared to make it his way, him leading the lustful tango of heat and needs of two bodies. Almost as if fearing it would jeopardize their chances. Each man is different in bed, she had learned that well over her years. Some take it fast, only it for the insane need to dive into a warm body, others take it slowly, almost too slow and make it boring. But not one man dominated her, some had thought about it, but never acted on it.

That is why she never _needed_ a man. He could slip in her once, and walk away and she wouldn't be left shaking for more. He could touch her, make one wrong move and she could get up and walk away, never regretting it. She thought maybe that was why no man dominated; no man took the lead, because her free spirit might not allow it.

But him, her _best friend_ no less, could take his way with her. He was the first man that stepped up and took his way. He was experienced; more experienced than she ever imagined him to be honestly. Most men thought they were experienced, and many of them were, but he was mind blowing experienced. Just at the first kiss, the very first stage of something that some how wasn't even defined, he knew what many men before him never figured out.

What turned her on.

A man leading her, that's what sparked her attention more than anything else ever could.

Sara was finally feeling that feeling she had been longing for, for so long, too long. A man that knew what she wanted and gave it to her, that feeling of desire she hadn't experienced in ages. And he hadn't even made any other move than a kiss.

But what a kiss it was, so fiery, so passionate. Their almost bare bodies pushed together so tightly it was almost as if they were fused together, in an hot entanglement that ran through them like liquid fire.

He pushed on her slightly, urging her to lead them out of the pool. She moved slowly, making sure not to break the kiss, in terror that the magic would leave if it did. She felt her feet step out of the water, and onto the marble steps.

Next thing she knew she was being slammed onto the ground, a force of impact with the concrete we sure to leave a bruise, but it was the last thing on her mind. He sat down above her, his knees straddling her body as his hands lingered down her, stopping slightly as he reached her breasts.

Knowing what he wanted, she arched her back, taking his hands around her and leading him to the hook of her soaked, black bra. She pushed it off her shoulders and fell back to the concrete fully, feeling the cool sensation of it rise up her body. He continued to kiss her during this; biting at her bottom lip so hard, she tasted the blood seep into her mouth. Somehow, she didn't care he 'harmed' her; she only wanted him to slip inside her.

* * *

_"Grandmamma? You here?"_

_Her eyes somehow stayed glued to the screen, the memory washing over her like drops of refreshing rain. Even the memories, as she typed it out slowly, her fingers aching with old age, made her feel that desire that was pounding through her that day so many years ago, too many years ago to be real._

_Almost fifty years since the day their tangled, confusing, and somewhat exhausting love affair began. Fifty years, to many years had passed and she could still smell his cologne lingering on her afterwards. The woman, as old as she was at the ripe age of 84, could still feel her heart flutter as they came closer to making love. She could still hear their gasps of pleasure, one after another. She could still imagine it and it still felt as sweet as it did almost fifty years ago. _

"_Grandmamma? What are you doing?"_

_Her granddaughter's sweet voice finally snapped her back, and as quickly, as her old fingers could handle it she saved the document and erased it from the screen._

"_Nothing, silly things."_

"_Grandmamma," she chuckled, "I know how to use one of those better than you do, so if you wont tell me what you were doing I can find out myself."_

_"So smart you are. Just like your Grandfather," She said in high hopes of changing the subject. "Want something to drink? I have grape Kool-Aid your favorite."_

"_I'll get us a glass 'mamma," she whispered getting up and pouring to glasses, "So just what were you writing?"_

_She chuckled as her Granddaughter's young eyes lit with curiosity as she handed her a glass. Pushing her coffee cup aside, she pulled up her document and handed the computer to her Grandchild._

"_I can write it better than I can say it," she whispered. "I have been aiming to let you read it."_

"_Is this a-"_

"_Romance novel? Yes. And before you ask, it is completely true down to the verb about your grandfather and I."_

"_You- Grandpa trespassed?"_

_Sara watched as Diane's eyes lit, hazel and warm, just like Greg's were._

"_Somewhat."_

"_Grandma this is so romantic!" she gushed._

"_Keep reading, then you will probably want to stop."_

_After a few moments, those oh so similar hazel eyes met her with a blush and read down to the very last sentence._

"_Why don't I just tell you. I need to finish this chapter anyway. You can type it for me, you're quicker and my hands are aching."_

"_Grandma, are you going to publish this?"_

"_Why? Do you think I shouldn't?"_

"_No, quite the opposite. I think you should, this so amazing."_

_"Just wait, you haven't even heard the best part yet." _

_They laughed together, as she sipped on her drink, recalling the memories in seamless detail, as her granddaughter lit with happiness._

_A happiness much like her fathers._

_A happiness, perfectly matching her grandfathers.

* * *

_

**A/N: Hey, so I hoped you liked it! To explain the father thing. Diane's fathers name was Richard, and he died two years ago(you will find out later) Diane is twenty years old, and we will find out more about her later and Sara's future family. Once again, hoped you liked (loved) the chapter. Review for me please!**

**PS: Just got to mention yesterdays episode! Anyone who hasnt seen it yet, you have your warning!**

**Oh my gosh, so sad, I almost cried for pour Greg! Blaming him for that! I got sooo mad, screamed at the tv, my mom thought i was going into some type of fit or something, lol. But seriously GREAT moment there, her hand going in front of Greg protectivly. My mom and Iwere discussing ships earlier, she things Greg an Wendy(dna tech cant rememeber her name i think thats it) is good for each other, I happen to disagree being the hardcore Sandle fan I am _smiles evilly_ that moment soo burned her.**


	4. Chapter Four: Mom! They're Strangers

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: When Sara agreed to leave with Greg Sanders, she couldn't have possibly seen what she had ahead of her.**

**A/N: I just have to thank my so wonderful and loyal reviewers! You all get cookies. What are you waiting for? Read and Review!**

**Oh to all who celebrate it like me, Happy Easter!**

* * *

"What the hell?" she asked herself under her breath.

Lindsey leaned over the railing of the steps, looking down at the bodies strolled around her house downstairs. From a distance, they might have looked dead, but Lindsey knew that they were just some idiots her mother brought home after work.

She rolled her eyes, her light red hair falling in front of her face, much like her mothers. She walked down the steps, singing to the invisible music that was played repeatedly in her head.

"Sit tight I'm going to need you to keep time, come on snap those fingers for me," she whispered quietly.

She tiptoed across the living room, stopping and staring at the two laying on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms.

"Mom!" she yelled, "They're strangers on the couch!"

She sniggered, smirking as the rather attractive blond nuzzled his head into the brunettes back.

She raised her eye brows, walking into the kitchen, stepping over the African American she immediately recognized as Warrick. He had been over her house quiet a few times. He was nice, but sometimes he got a too bossy for Lindsey's taste.

She pulled out a glass of orange juice, trying not to step on the other male in the kitchen floor. She looked down at them, blanket thrown over them as he bare legs poked out of the ends. The blanket only reached up to mid torso, so his nice six pack was just waiting for her to admire it.

"_Man he looks good_," she thought to herself, "_Nice abs_."

She grabbed the jug of orange juice out and poured a glass, on her way toward the living room. She 'accidentally' stepped on Warrick as she walked out, giggling like mad.

"Damn Lindsey watch your feet!" he muttered.

"Now, now, now, language," she teased.

"Language my ass," he grumbled, sitting up, "You didn't step on Nick."

"But I like to tease you, you're my buddy."

"Sure Linds'"

"MOM! Get these love sick idiots off my couch!" she screeched. "I am missing Tyra!"

"Where's the fire!" Nick yelled sitting up rigidly.

Lindsey cackled, just before Nick launched his pillow at the amused teen.

"MOM!"

"Lindsey! Shhhhh!" Warrick hissed pointing franticly at Greg and Sara.

"I want the love sick idiots off my couch!" she hissed back.

Lindsey marched up the steps and before the boys could stop her stormed into the bed room, where her mother was getting rather cozy with her supervisor.

"MOM!"

"What Lindsey?"

"Get the love sick idiots off my couch!"

"No, sit in the floor."

"I will not! Momma I am missing Tyra."

"You can watch Trya in the floor," she hissed back as she slipped out of the bed.

Lindsey glared at her mother and marched down back stairs angrily.

* * *

Sara nuzzled in to warmth of the couch, pressing herself into the warmth of the body wrapped around her. 

Wait a second . . .

Couch?

Warm body wrapped around her?

Sara was terrified to open her eyes, afraid who or possibly, what she was laying with and on.

"_Oh god what if its Gil_!" she thought panicking.

"Please, please God let it be anyone but him. I would rather it be Greg than him!" she hissed quietly.

"Well that's good."

Sara's eyes shot open, her pupils bombarded with light. She batted her eyes for a moment, to adjust to the room and looked around to she a red head sitting against the couch fiddling with a remote.

"Holy shit where am I?"

"Where do you think you are?"

"Lindsey? Oh no, oh god no please let this be dream," she pleaded putting her head in her hands.

Memories flooded Sara's mind to quickly for her to register them almost. The pool, and the events afterward.

She was so thankful they stopped them.

* * *

**_Flashback_ **

_**Panic flooded her as she looked back from Greg to Gil. Guilt inside her increased, so quickly she couldn't bare it. Before she could stop to think, she shoved Greg off her and pulled her clothes on before running away.**_

_**"Sar'! Sara please wait!" **_

_**But she kept running and didn't stop until she collapsed on ground, tears running out of her eyes.**_

_**He sat down beside her, his thumb gently racking away the tears.**_

_**"You didn't plan this did you?" she asked softly.**_

_**"Sara! Yeah I planned to take my best friend to Catherine's house to get her naked!" he teased sarcastically. **_

_**"Good to know," she whispered softly, smiling.**_

_**"You know I don't plan anything SarBear, period."**_

_**"I know, it was an accident."**_

_**Greg nodded agreeing, "We both haven't been laid for a while and had pent up sexual frustrations."**_

_**Sara gasped and punched her friends, eyeing him amused and shook her head. "I have no problem in that department. You might have, but I don't."**_

_**"Sure SarBear sure. But wouldn't that mean you wanted me?"**_

_**Sara's face went blank as she looked off.**_

_**"Sara, stick to the truth. It's what your good at. Don't deny it either. You want me."**_

_**"Who said I was denying it?" she teased before heading back into the house.**_

_**End Of Flashback**_

* * *

She felt the arms slip around her waist, pulling her into him protectively. She let out a little squeak, her body rigid in an awkward fear. But the more she loosened up, the more she enjoyed being wrapped in him. His body was warm, and soft, perfect for her to melt in and fall asleep._

* * *

Sara yawned slightly as she looked out the window. Much time had passed since they had started, and she was ever so tired from reliving her life of passion all over again. But her Granddaughter on the other hand, she was just getting started. _

_"Oh Grandmamma!" the blond pleaded, "Please don't stop there! Please?"_

_Sara chuckled as Diane begged, the spitting image of her Grandfather. She began to pout and looked as if ready to grovel on her knees.  
_

_"You really like listening to this don't you?" she asked surprised._

_"Why wouldn't I?" she began, "It's about Papa, I don't really remember him."_

_"Yes, he died a bit after you were born," she said solemnly, " But let me tell you something. You were still exactly like him."_

_She reached out for her Granddaughters hand, her eyes swelling with tears but she pressed on. She needed to hear this just as much as Sara needed to say it._

_"The day you were born, I swear that man went through seven rolls of film and equal amount of video tape. He did for the ones before you as well, but you, you were special to him. His sons first born. After all, his oldest and only son's child was something."_

_She paused a moment letting out a slow breath, "You and him were inseparable. The day you were born, he fed you first, not your Mom, but Greg. You didn't even want to leave his site. You might not remember him well, but when you were little, even a month old, you never forgot him. You worshiped him like a hero even as a newborn."_

_"Really?" she said, a ray of hope in her voice._

_"Really," she agreed. "Now, where were we?"_

_"Aunt Lindsey was throwing a fit about missing Tyra," the twenty year old giggled._

_"Oh yes," she whispered before she continued with the story._

_"At first I didn't even know it was your Papa I was with. I didn't remember a thing from that night."_

_"Do did you go all the way?"  
_

_"No heavens. Gil 'accidentally' tripped outside before we could I wish that man hadn't came outside. Though at the time I was thankful."_

_"Grandmamma!"_

_"What? A old woman is still a woman and we still think about that you know."_

_

* * *

_


	5. Chapter Five: Lying Is The Most Fun

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: What does black panties, Catherine Willows, and a pool have in common? Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are about to find out.**

**A/N: OMG just found something on soooo if anyone wants any hints on the finale message me or tell me in a review!! It has to do with Grissom (at least I think anyway) it kind of creeps me out and yet it doesn't.**

**And SOO sorry for the delay, lots of school work and tests. My next two weeks are booked with state testing so please forgive me!**

* * *

_The atmospheres of the night club life almost scared her, that is why she opted to live in San Francisco in the first place. Sure, they were a night life, but it wasn't wild and dangerous as the ones in Las Vegas. She had to keep her gun, badge, and a can of pepper spray in her purse at all times._

* * *

_She guessed that it was just the job that turned her off the wild life. She used to want that, the completely popular party scene, many people to spend it with too. But she grew out of that once she found out how those people ended up._

_Now, she found herself yet again, back into another Las Vegas club sitting lonely at the bar like a broken beauty. Her hair was put up in a messy, yet elegant bun and small curly strings framed her face. Her black halter dress came up a bit above the knees, with a pair of stiletto, black leather, knee high boots to match. The only jewel she had was a small charm bracelet that donned charms of pro breast cancer research._

_But it really wasn't just the dark, wild, dangerous atmosphere of the club life that turned her off, it was the drunken patrons who danced on tables, taking off what little clothing, they possessed. They sung to the great songs, making mockery to them. The desperate women threw themselves on anything that possessed a penis while the groping men slipped their hands down in the girls lacy thongs._

_What was she doing?  
_

_She sat at the bar, with no one beside her except a broken down broker who talked to himself and a middle-aged woman who had passed out from intense booze. She rolled her eyes softly, shaking her heads with a frown of disrespect on her face as the girl slumped over and fell head first out of her chair._

_While the broker ran to tend to the 'fallen lady', Sara took another dignified sip of her dignified peach and lime daiquiri, letting the rum numb her tongue and emotions. She looked over at the man, who had the blond in his arms, his eyes lit with hungry flames._

_"Would you care to dance?"_

_"I'd like too, but I am **not** so sure I can stand at this point," she giggled with a drunken hiccup._

_"Would you rather wait for a slow song?" he pressed._

* * *

**

* * *

**_Sara rolled her eyes again and let her finger fall into the remaining crème at the bottom of her drink. The cool ice licked at the tips of her fingers as she let them surface, before twisting them under again, almost erotically. She sucked the icy foam off her finger and pushed the glass toward the bar tender, wanting yet another glass._

_"Another glass Mam?"_

* * *

**_So I guess we're back to us, oh cameraman, swing the focus  
In case I lost my train of thought, where was it that we last left off?  
(Let's pick up, pick up)_**

* * *

_"Waiting for someone?"_

_"I was, before I asked you that after this glass to please call me a cab."_

_"Stood you up?"_

_She observed the man, like many others before him. Looked like he was in his late twenties, but already saw grays settling on his head, with bright blue eyes and a well built frame. She shook her head yes slowly and looked back down, her cheeks began to blush as he gazed at her._

* * *

**_Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster, faster  
So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,  
Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?  
So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,  
Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?_**

**_Dance to this beat  
Dance to this beat  
Dance to this beat_**

**

* * *

**

_She giggled, trying to compose her structure before looking at the man again. But it was a failed attempt, seeing she broke apart laughing with him when she looked up._

_"See I still got it," he whispered handing her a glass._

_"Got what?"_

_"The ability to make anyone laugh."_

_"Nice quality."_

_"My lovers say so to," he replied with a wink before he left her alone._

* * *

**

* * *

**_She turned her head, preparing to tell them to please leave her be, when she stopped. A smile graced her features and she looked down for a moment, her eyes glittering with the excitement._

_"I am so sorry I was late," he whispered. "Traffic was murder."_

_"Translation . . . . you couldn't find anything to wear," she replied confidently._

_"That, and I was already late so I decided to make it up to you," he whispered._

_She looked over at him, as he handed her a small, red blooming, thornless rose. _

_"Thank you."  
_

_"Now you can make it up to me by," he started before taking the last draw of her drink, "Letting me drink the rest of that."  
_

_"Oh go ahead," she laughed sarcastically._

_" I knew you wouldn't mind. And you can."  
_

* * *

_But it wasn't any use to ask; before she knew it, he had grabbed her hand and drug her to the dance floor. _

_"I can't dance Greg!"_

_"You can dance, I have saw you dance," he teased leading her into the crowd._

_She began to blush at the comment. "That doesn't count."_

_"Why?"_

_"You were a Peeping Tom and I was in a towel."  
_

_"Nothing I haven't seen before. After Hasmat of course."_

* * *

_They stood at the edge of the crowd, pushing forward through hormonal teenagers and adults alike. She felt herself being pushed against him and her fingers began to slip from his own. The multi colored lights flashed above like strobe lights and a light mist off fog surrounded them as Panic! At The Disco played from the large speakers above. The crowd pushed and pulled them, to and from the overcrowded dance floor. _

_He slipped his hand around her waist, keeping her close. Tingles flew up her body, the good kind mind you. He leaned into her, as if sharing a secret, but all she heard with his slightly ragged breath._

_She sighed in content as they moved, she strangely, wanted to feel like this forever._

_They stopped momentarily as another song began to play, a romance novel condensed in verses. Just for the pure use for lovers to hug close and whisper the lyrics in the others ear._

_Normally, she would have found this sickening. And for a moment, she did._

* * *

_They danced slowly, in union beats, their bodies moving as one across the floor. Their bodies grazing, breath beating against the others skin, their own hearts racing against their bodies._

* * *

**_Just let me hold you while you're falling apart  
Just let me hold you and we'll both fall down_**

* * *

_Through everything they had always been there for each other. Protecting and shielding all the pain from the other when they are down and low. She had always felt strong feeling for him, just thought they were friendly protectiveness instead of insane jealously._

_He had always fought for her, even when she wasn't the innocent one, wanting to do something about it._

_He never could handle seeing her in pain._

* * *

_**"Just let me hold you while you're falling apart,"** he whispered to her._

_**"Just let me hold you and we'll both fall down,"** she answered, keeping her eyes closed and moved to the music._

**

* * *

**_"Thank you Greg."_

_"For what?"  
_

_"For finally making me realize who the only man for me is," she answered._

* * *

**

* * *

**_"Greg?"_

_"Yeah Sar'."_

_"Do you want to know who that man is?"_

_"Not particularly," he whispered crest fallen._

_"Greg?"_

_"Yes Sar'?"_

_"That man is you."_

_"Really?"_

* * *

_**"**Sara, I have waited for seven years-"_

_"Greg. Don't ramble."_

_"But-"  
_

* * *

_**"**Sara I-"  
_

_"Greg. Just. Kiss. Me." _

_"What?"_

_"Just kiss me."_

_She laughed as his eyes lit with realization. She watched his hazel orbs dance as he leaned down, etching ever glitter into her mind before her eye lids lost and she lost between the heart wrenching pleasure._

_

* * *

_**_Forever with you  
Forever in me  
Ever the same(Ever the same)

* * *

_**

_As the song parted, all the dancers cleared out as a Backstreet Boys song blared from the speakers. But even as the horrible music roared on, their lips never parted._

_Until Greg pulled away and a cup of coffee appeared in his hands. _

_He waved the glass under her hand; BH making her nose tingle in delight._

_"Sara, wake up Sara. You need coffee. Good coffee before I drink it all."  
_

_"Greg are you crazy! Where did you get the coffee?"_

_"Sara- drink the coffee. It loves you, it needs you."_

_Suddenly everyone appeared with cups of BH and headed toward her chanting "Sara Drink Coffee." Greg at the front of the group._

* * *

Sara snapped up sweat pouring down her face and she franticly looked around her. The room was empty, all of her coworkers moved out of the house.

Except the blond cackling in the floor with two cups of coffee in his hands.

Sara groaned, inwardly wishing Greg was more like he was in her dream, sensitive, sweet, charming and witty, sexy. But he was always-

No. Greg isn't sexy.

Last night had no effect on her. Sure, she dreamed intimately about him, but rage of hormones.

She never would like, nor love, Greg Sanders.

Would she?

"Damnit Greg, give me my coffee now before I beat your ass," she muttered.

Greg giggled, regaining his composure and looked over at her, cracking a smirk.

"So exactly what was I doing to you in that dream of yours?"

Sara's eyes bugged out and almost shot her mouth full off coffee across the room.

"Excuse me?"

"You know," he said, "You were moaning my name."

"What?"

"Oh come on Sara! Did it involve me chained to a bed with a blindfold and you in dominatrix leather and a whip?"

"Greg! No!"

"Damnit. It would have been really a coincidence if you did."

"So what did you dream Greg?"

His face turned red before he muttered about coffee and changed the subject to their coworkers.

Sara smiled.

She loved winning things like this.

**

* * *

A/N: OK just to point this out, the italics was NOT from the future in this chapter, it was a dream, and the bolded italics was the song that was being played at the club. In the next chapter, it will be future centric, about Diane and Sara. Once again SOOO sorry for not posting sooner! School has been so tough on us, next week we will be studying for finals and the next week after that state testing so my weeks are booked! **

**So thanks for the reviews in the last chapter, and please review now!**


	6. Chapter Six: I Love You Too

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: What does black panties, Catherine Willows, and a pool, have in common? Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are about to find out.**

**A/N: OMG!! Okay who else thoroughly enjoyed the new epi????? Well not the epi per say, the last scene and the commercial. My dream come true! I can't believe it, well I can because I knew it all along, well by what it looks like I knew it all along anyway. If anyone would like to discuss it pm me because I am itching to discuss the episode and preview!**

**Disclaimer: Smiles evilly. If I owned CSI the destruction of GSR and Grissom would have long since been over**. 

**Chapter Six: I Love You Too.

* * *

**

Diane sat at the back of the library, in the same tattered chair as she did every Saturday afternoon before she met Brian. The same soured hot chocolate stain ringed on the edge of the leather arm, and she could swear that her foot impressions from three months ago still indentured on the matching footstool. Not that it was surprising, no one hardly comes to the Women's History department, only the local women's activists from neighboring communities, most of them in their late 50's, nearing retirement or on disability. She could imagine them, as she saw them many times on Saturdays it wasn't that hard to do.

They would sit around a small table, in squeaky chairs wearing Sunday best while smoking imported Cuban cigars and passing around the bottle of Jamaican Rum around the table while discussing women's wages in the south-central United States.

Diane used to live in the Library of the University of Las Vegas. Sitting in the small chair at hours at a time on Saturday and on Sunday after school. Studying or enjoying a bit of light reading. She thought for a very long time that she was the only one that knew about the little place at all, except the local activists who would regularly come in, grab a book and for the next two hours would quiz her on the women's rights movement.

_It had been just another Friday; It was unlike her to come by on a Friday, but her American Lit. Lecture Class had been canceled and left her time to cram for her Physics Exam. Diane had been heading to the back of the library carrying a bottle of Febreeze in her backpack since it did smell a bit musty from the lack of Human Life Forms in that particular section, not to mention the chair was as old as the city of Las Vegas. She had just begun to pull it out and spray around when she heard a sigh relief from behind her._

_She wasn't particularly used to that in the back._

_So, she naturally, jumped in surprise._

_He had brown hair, shaded with gray from the years of youth well gone. His eyes were blue, bright, haunting blue. His face was beginning to lightly line with wrinkles, crows feet just beginning to form. He was of average height, and average build. Nothing special about him, but he had something that fed to Diane's one major flaw._

_She was intensely attracted to wisdom, and nothing screamed wisdom more than an aged man, around 50 give or take a few years, small oval rimmed glasses and callused fingers from to many turns of to many books._

_"I forgot my own today. I was hoping someone would have a fresh bottle," he said in generally serious tone but with amusement glittering in his eyes._

_"Yeah, I always have a fresh bottle," she laughed nervously. "I thought I was the only one who knew about this place."_

_"As did I. Here to brush up on Women's rights?"_

_"Amazing movement in history, but no. Physics exam at four."_

_"Of all the sciences I hated Physics the worst. Then again I have never been good at any of science except for Psychology."_

_"I am pretty good, I am going to be a Chemist. I am going to work in a Medical Laboratory."_

_"Sounds like an interesting career. I am glad someone has a passion for science."_

_"Yeah, I get it from my grandparents. So what are you studying?"_

_"The psychology of a serial killer."_

_"For what class?"_

_"My class."_

_"You're a professor here?"_

_"Yep, just brushing up before I have to give my lecture."_

_"Well I do hope you have a good time at that Professor."_

_"Wait! Where are you going?" he asked inventively. A sparkle grew in his eyes as she walked away._

_But she didn't even look back to answer, all she whispered was, "If you want to know that bad, you can find out yourself."_

_And she walked out the door._

Diane twirled her pen in her fingers, hopelessly studying on the book intensely. She knew it was hopeless, but she prayed that somehow that she would be able to focus. But all focus was gone. Instead, she was intently staring at the same sentence since she opened the book.

_**The formula for oxygen sulfate combined with dihydrogen monophosphate . . .** _

She only had gotten that far in the book of Chemistry. The first sentence and she couldn't even finish it!

She slammed the book disgusted and leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes as if hoping in silence for a miracle.

She used to love it here, now it was just a sad reminder of how lonely her life had been.

With a heavy sigh she slipped her book in her bag and prepared to leave, her mind heavy with thought that she paid no mind to the intense grunting on the other side of the bookcase.

She stood by the bay window beside the chair and stared out at the world below her. It looked so simple six stories up, like it wasn't just another hell waiting to swallow her whole. She watched as the busy students and nonstudents alike bustled about on the campus. Some of them, no doubt, were going to meet up with their lovers and make hot love until night ends.

But she wouldn't.

She would return to her grandmothers and sleep on the couch since she didn't have enough money to pay the rent of her apartment. And after all the stories from her youth about dorm rooms from her grandmother, she wasn't about to stay there.

In her spare time, between school and the book store she worked at avidly, Diane spent her time immersed in her grandmother and grandfathers heated romance. From making love, to fighting, to having the children, the memories she shared never got old. Most would have suspected that it would have been a bit awkward to say the least, listening to personal moments with amazing detail, but in all honesty, she found it fantasizing and entertaining.

"Having fun?"

Diane's eyes snapped up and were focused on a certain blond classmate of her. She clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, letting out a very unhappy sigh.

"What is it now Jordan?"

Jordan Nickelson was about the most annoying thing that hit the Earth since the twisty ties on the bags sliced bread. And ironically, he thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. She begged to differ. Sure, he had amazing blond hair that fell in his smoky blue eyes, perfectly sculpted face and not mention a body of a Greek god, or so she heard, but their was one, no make that two, two huge flaws.

He was the most egotistical man every created, and he was an incredible man whore. He held the schools record for largest number of conquered women, which wasn't something to boast about in her opinion, but he certainly liked to.

He had this air about him, this false since of manners and the incredible gift to turn on the charm that almost no girl could resist.

Almost, every girl couldn't resist him, ever girl except Diane that is. This was why she had been his prey off and on for the past two years.

"Do I have to have a reason to speak to the most gorgeous woman alive?"

"Haven't you learnt by now that line doesn't work?" she asked, picking up her chemistry book again and pretending to study.

"Ahhh but I have so many other tricks up my sleeves.

"I bet you do. Tell me, how many women has actually fallen for that?"

"Many my dear, all except for the love of my life."

"Oh really, life's a bitch isn't it?"

"Yes she is infact," he teased. She sent in an icy glare before he finished his sentence, "But that intrigues me. Every time she turns me down I want her more."

"Sounds like a smart woman."

"Not really."

"Exucuse me?" she asked now thoroughly offended.

"She is no just smart, she is a genius. She is perfect, except for one flaw."

"And that is?"

"She can see true love waiting when it is right beside her."

And he got up and left.

Diane blinked a few times before she realized that he was gone. She shoved her things in her bag and continued down the hall after him, telling herself that she was only chasing in to tell him off.

It wasn't as if she was actually humored by this or anything . . .

"Or maybe she has already found true love!" she called after him.

"Yeah, that happens to fuck a girl in spandex in the janitors closet eh?" he whispered as she came close.

Diane's eyes dropped and she felt the tears swell in her eyes, and she looked away.

She didn't want anyone to she her cry.

"Diane I am sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, your right. Its over anyway."

"I am sorry to here that," he said softly.

She glanced up, just in time to see a flicker of a smile on his lips.

He looked so _devastated_ by the news.

"I can see that you mean that from the bottom of your heart," she replied sarcastically.

"Of course, trust me I do."

"Oh I do, I feel so secure in your feelings of sadness toward me."

"As you should."

A silence fell upon her and she stayed perfectly still. She wanted to close her eyes, she wanted to move, and she wanted to run. But her body was paralyzed and refused to move. She felt him. She knew they were coming.

As he walked past, he didn't even glance her way, wearing his trousers and black button up as usual. His gray hair normally uncombed and his blue eyes just as soft as they ever been. Nothing had changed except the woman connected to his hip.

He never showed her off like that, she had never been his trophy. In a way, she was thankful, but she at least didn't want to be the secret. She wanted to be the lover who everyone knew about but he never cared what they thought. But it never happened that way.

She couldn't help but let her eyes trail after him. She giggled at something he whispered in her ear, something probably witty, or another one of his bad jokes you had to laugh at anyway. She glanced back, the brunette with bright green eyes.

She felt the steady fall of tears free falling and no hope of letting up. She hung her head, not really bothering to hid them now.

"Diane, he isn't worth I," Jordan whispered.

"Then who is?"

" Will let me take you somewhere?"

Diane stood for a moment looking out at him, as they both glanced back at her and laughed. Her eyes enflamed as they stopped, sitting under their old spot and wrapped their arms around the other's body as if for protection. A shameful need for warmth for the other.

She looked up at him, and thinking no second thoughts about it, she grabbed Jordan fiercely.

"I will do one better."

And she kissed him.

* * *

Jordan held his arm around her, supporting her as she took another sip at the six pack she was carrying flimsily. She sang out to her own tune and giggled, stumbling and tumbling over words and her own feet as they made their way up the hill. He held her tighter as she began to loose footing at the hill getting steeper. He heaved a breath and with one foot in front of the other, he made his way up the hill everyday. Normally it didn't bother him, he was accustom to it, he wasn't accustom supporting two bodies up it though instead of one.

He looked over at her, a smile on her face but her beautiful eyes dead with a loss of emotions. Usually she was so sweet, and full of life. But now right here she had to drink to get rid of the feelings of her problems.

He could kick himself for buying those two packs of beer.

On the contrary, to what others thought, she was more than just a conquest to him. She was the one. As extreme as it sounded, he could admit that, he knew she was the only person for him. For the first time in his life he wanted to actually wake up in the morning and know he had a commitment.

He lived for her annoyance, her flaming eyes. Her scoffing and sarcastic comments at his attempts. Rushing him away with a desire in her eyes that she didn't even know was there. Everything about her made every fiber of him spring to life, it was like she was the air he breathed.

But he knew one thing; he couldn't breath without that lingering scent. The sweet mixture of vanilla and strawberry crème. That precious Sanders Scent. It fueled. It was getting a bit bad though, he knew she was coming before he saw her, he smelt her and he knew. No one else could ever match that almost erotic scent. And as she leaned on him now, it was all over him. No doubt, at all, that he would smell just like her when he woke up tomorrow, and the thought drove him wild with desire. He just didn't want to wake up smelling her; he wanted to wake up seeing her.

"Jordan, I think I am going to get sick," she whispered hoarsely.

Jordan quickly ushered her away from the road just as she started to gag. They both bent down on their knees, and he took the wisps of her hair and held it back as he supported her. She vomited for quite a while it seemed, one right after the other until she was so weak her body wouldn't allow it.

He guessed six and a half beers did that to some people.

"Unless you haven't guessed yet," she whispered leaning back on him for support, "I don't drink a lot."

"Neither do it." He stood up and took her hands pulling her up, but at the first sight of her wobbly legs he ushered her down instead and lifted her into his arms.

"You don't have too."

"I know I don't," he started. "But I want to."

"Thank you Jordan."

"Your welcome Diane."

And she fell asleep.

* * *

Jordan made a mental note never, repeat never ever never, when getting a girl drunk attempt to carry her up the steep hill in wet grass.

It wasn't the easiest thing in his life to be honest.

Jordan collapsed on the porch of his small home and let his head hang, his eyes closed. After a few moments rest, he came to his senses and fished the keys out of his pocket.

Standing up with, being as weak as the hill had made up, Diane in his arms wasn't the easiest thing either. He didn't mean she was large by any means, she was at a nice normal size, not to small or large, but her weight didn't make him lifting his body any easier. Already his muscles began to ache and by one foot in front of the other, he finally unlocked the door and led himself into his home.

It was the same sight as always, a small rectangular living room with three doors to the side, two bedrooms, and the other to the bathroom. With a long couch, a small recliner, a few tables, a TV, DVD player and one old lamp is what the living room consisted off. A few pictures of him and his friends and family were tacked up on walls because he really couldn't afford frames. There was no decorations, only the blankets his nana had quilted before she passed. The kitchen was small as well, having the basic appliances, fridge, a stove, a few cabinets, a sink and a space he hoped to have filled with a dish washer a while ago.

He laid her down on his own bedroom, which was just as plain as the rest and tucked her in the already unmade bed. He exited the room, just before glancing back and gave a small smile before quietly shutting his door. He threw off his jacket, emptying his pockets of the necessary things such as his at the moment empty pocket book, keys, a pencil and pin, and his campus pass. He walked slowly to the other room and creaked open the door.

It was the only room in the house that was decorated at all, the only place that was what he considered lavished that gave him a sense of pride at all for what he had. The white dresser perfectly matched the desk that had pink and purple flowers painted on them neatly. An Aerial lamp that cast a soft glow sat upon the desk along with a folder, a picture of a beautiful girl, a little baby in a pink dress and himself. Some pencils and crayons laid scattered above a picture of a somewhat looking super hero in blue tights and had scrawled premature writing that said mi dad is mi herow. He smiled warmly over at the twin canopy bed, with pink bedding that had feel to the floor from a little girls sleepless night.

He walked over to the bed, grabbed the bedding off the floor, and laid it over the bed carefully as the sleeping princess began to stir. He wiped a few blond curly locks from her face and felt of her forehead. She was burning hot. He walked over to the other side of the bed, where the baby sitter Erica laid on a makeshift bed.

"Erica, pssttt Erica."

"Huh, oh Mr. Nickelson. Your home."

"Yes, sorry I am so late. One of my friends was having some problems."

"Are they okay?"

"Yeah, they will be fine. I really owe you Erica. I will pay you extra."

"You don't have to Mr. Nickelson. I love Jose. Plus you pay me to much as is it."

"No I don't, you are the only one I trust with Josephine."

"You're a great father Mr. Nickelson, you really are. I wish mine was as good as you."

Jordan smiled and whispered a goodbye as the teen briskly walked down the road with a check for fifty dollars in hand. He really didn't have the money, but he did it anyway.

He did it for Jose.

His eyes began to faulter and he walked into his babies room, where he found her sitting up with a smile.

"Your home Daddy?"

"Yep I am home."

"Is it Sunday Daddy?"

"Not for a few hours."

"Otay."

"I love you honey."

"Lub you to Daddy."

He leant down and gave her a short kiss before he left his two year old daughter in the room.

* * *

**A/N: Ohhhh a twist of fate prehaps? Honestly I loved writing this between Jordan and Diane! Yeah if you havent guessed it already I got the idea from The Holiday, is it just me or is Jude Law just drop dead sexy in that movie? Anywho . . . . yeah that is sorta how I based Jordan. Next chapter is a mix between the future and a bit of the past. Chapter Eight will be all the way past, or present in our case. So yep hope ya review so u can see all of this . . .**


	7. Chapter Seven:The Tale of Jerry Springer

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: What does black panties, Catherine Willows, and a pool, have in common? Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are about to find out.**

**A/N: Hey hey hey! Well I am back with a new chapter! Hope ya like it. Next chapter is completely the past, or errr present in our case. I'm going to start giving ya previews at the end of the chapter so yep. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Okay, okay, okay, I don't CSI, I admit it. **

**Chapter Seven: The Tale of Jerry Springer**

* * *

Sara sat on the couch in infinite triumph sipping at her third cup of coffee. As another commercial came onto the screen, she turned to see her co-worker, who sat successfully pulling off the 'I am pouting but am I still sexy' look. 

"Oh come off of it Greg. Doctor Phil is wayyy better than Jerry Springer!"

"Phil doesn't have midgets and country hicks sleeping with their cousins!" he whined.

"And that is why I wont watch it. Dr. Phil doesn't waste an hour on complete bullshit."

"But it is funny bullshit!"

She rolled her eyes, realizing that she would never win with him and looked down at her coffee cup.

Empty.

Sara pouted and looked over at Greg with puppy dog eyes, begging silently as she held out her cup.

"No I wont fall for it. No matter how cute you are with the pout."

"Greg please, I promise I will do anything."

"Anything?"

"Anything- as long as it doesn't have to do anything with TV."

Greg seemed to sit and ponder about this, stroking an imaginary beard as he thought. She giggled and shook her head, but as he broke out in a wicked smile, it didn't seem as funny anymore.

She suddenly wished she had gotten her own coffee.

"Okay Sara."

Before she could object, he had grabbed her cup and raced off.

Sara had no idea how right she was to be terrified.

* * *

_"Sun," Diane groaned as she rolled over in the quiet comfortable full size bed._

_Wait._

_Full size bed?  
_

_She instantly opened her eyes, but also instantly regretted it, as the sun didn't do much help for her blasting head ache. After a few moments her eyes adjusted, her head didn't, but her eyes did and that was all she really could expect. She knew she never could hold her liquor. _

_The room was plain, very plain indeed. With one full size bed with a raggedly blue quilt over the top, two table chairs with small lamps and a weak dresser is what the room consisted of. Diane swung herself out of the bed and realized her shoes were now missing. Eyeing the flip flops in the floor, she slipped them on her feet and slipped out of the room._

"_DADDY!! I AM HUNGERY!"  
_

_Diane jumped a bit as a squealing blur flew by her, not helping her ever increasing headache one bit. _

"_JOSE I SAID BE QUIET! WE HAVE A GUEST-"_

_Diane took a sharp to in take as Jordan stepped into the room and his face began to flush._

"_-Asleep. Umm Diane, the screaming blur of terror was Josephine."_

"_ITS JOSE!" the little girl squealed._

"_Please make her stop doing that," Diane whined._

_"DADDY! HUNGERY NOW!"_

_Diane flinched again as the scream seared through her head and she gave Jordan a pleading look. Jordan sighed and causally walked into the kitchen and returned it the 'screaming terror."_

_She was a petite little girl, with short blond curls and smoky blue eyes much like her, well Jordan's. _

"_Daddy said to apologize so I'm sorry Ms. Sanders."_

_Diane nodded and fell on the couch behind her and looked up at him. She had no remembrance of last night's events at all. But that really wasn't what bothered her._

_It was that, the player, Jordan fucked every girl except Diane Sanders at LUV Nickelson had a daughter. And what looked like his own house._

_Since when did he have any other responsibilities than buying condoms?  
_

"_Daddy?" she asked._

_"Yeah about that-"_

_"Daddy! Hungry!" the little girl whined._

"_Okay, okay okay. Since you don't remember anything-"  
_

"_Daddy!"_

"_Jose! Hush for a second for Daddy please. I will explain it all-"  
_

"_Daddy please!"_

"_HUSH!"_

_She watched as the little girls tear stained face poked around the corner. Jordan ran up to her, envopling in his arms and whispered._

_"Did I hurt her?"_

"_Sort of," he giggled._

_"I am sorry Daddy."_

"_Its okay sweetly. Now what do you want?"  
_

"

_She nodded quietly and looked off, completely confused about what had just entered her life. _

* * *

Sara took a sip of her latest glass of coffee as Greg continued to whine about the benefits of Jerry Springer. 

"Jerry makes it interesting, I mean you cant get better than midgets jumping out of cakes!"

"You need to marry Jerry Greg," she teased.

"At least he would get his own coffee."

"Well if you would rather me go . . . " She trailed off.

"No!" he said a bit, to quickly, "I mean, no."

Sara giggled a little, pushed the remote toward him, and watched as his hazel orbs lit up happily.

"Really?"

"Yes really," she sighed.

"Thank you Sara," he whispered as he quickly changed the channel.

He looked happier than a kid at Christmas.

Sara had yet to realize that it wasn't Jerry he was happy about. It was her.

* * *

Catherine ran through her bags, making sure the last minute things were packed and quickly dialed Grissoms cell and ran off a list to him. 

"Sun block?"

"Yes."

"Glasses?"

"Yes."

"Swimming trunks?"

"I have everything Cath. Please stop worrying," Grissom sighed.

"I know I just don't want to go and realize we forgot something."

"We wont. Now have you told them yet."

"No."

"Catherine," Grissom whined.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked.

"Yes. Positively. They make each other happy and I have moved on to better things."

Catherine let out a smile a breath she didn't realize she was holding after a few moments.

"I just hope Sara doesn't get pregnant."

"Why would Sara do that?"

"Because Gil, if what happened yesterday happens again no one will be here to stop them."

"They are smart Cath, they will use protection if the time comes," he whispered awkwardly.

"Gil, never put any faith in latex and raging hormones. Be there in twenty."

"I shall be ready."

Catherine hung up and walked off the room, bags in had and met ushered Lindsey out to the car.

* * *

"Are you sure its okay Sar'?" Catherine asked skeptically. 

"Yes, I would love staying here. Everything will be fine. Gill, Lindsey, Your Mom and yourself have a good time."

"Thanks Sara, you don't realize how much this means to me."

"Its okay, I promise I will take good care of everything."

"Just make sure Greg doesn't burn anything down."

"I promise," Sara giggled.

Catherine suppressed a laugh, instead smiled and turned toward the car. She climbed in and started up the engine before rolling down the window.

"Sara!"

"Yeah?"

"My top bedroom side tables drawer!"

"What about it?"

"You will see."

* * *

_Jordan gave Jose a kiss as Erica sat on the couch successfully braiding her hair. After some goodbyes, he led Diane outside the house as the walked down the road for their night class. They both were going into the Chemist field and had Sunday night Chem. Lab._

_The journey was quiet for a while. Not the comfortable silence that engulfs you, but the awkward painful silence that eats away at you._

"_So . . ." she trailed off._

"_So I suspect you have a few questions."_

_"A bit," she admitted._

_"Go ahead. Ask away."_

"_How old is she?"_

_"Two," he answered smiling._

"_Where is her mother?"_

_"Gone."  
_

_"Where? Why isn't she with you?"_

_"She's . . . dead."_

"_Oh, I am sorry. I didn't realize."_

_"Don't be, you couldn't have."_

"

_"A father isn't the most appealing thing to women at first. I don't like telling anyone of my daughter unless I trust them."_

_"Why me?" she asked_

_"Isn't it obvious? I like you."_

_"What about her grandparents?" she asked ignoring the later._

_"Dead."_

"_Oh, I am sorry."_

"_It's okay. I am pretty much all she has."_

"_You are like two different people," she quipped._

_"How so?"_

"_Well at school, you are this flirt all the women fall over and then at home your super dad."_

_"Odd combination eh?"_

_"A bit."_

"_I think it is incredibly sexy."_

"_Really?" he asked._

_"Yes really," she started, "Maturity, I mean is the best trait one can find."_

* * *

**A/N: Well, I hope you all like it, but before I leave you, I will address Diane and her reaction. Diane is a lot like Sara, and models herself off Sara, I will explain more about her mother later, so the attraction maturity and deep affection toward Brian comes from that. I wanted to make her more shocked than mad about it. Plus, you have to remember; she really doesn't like Jordan in the first place. She only kissed him because Brian was there.**

**_Chapter Eight: If The World Lived On A Smile_**

**_The rain poured down in a clear conscience as she closed her eyes and let the rain drops cleanse her soul. It didn't matter where she had been, what she was, or what she had done. All that mattered was here, now, and his smile gracing the world with a light brighter than any other._**


	8. Chapter Eight: Tale of the Two Teases

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: What does black panties, Catherine Willows, and a pool, have in common? Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are about to find out.**

**A/N: Hey hey hey! Well I am back with a new chapter! Sorry it took soooo long, but my computer was messed up and i was just able to get back on it. Hope ya like it. I am planning on finishing it up soon, so expect more updates soon! This chapter is completely the past, or errr present in our case. I'm going to start giving ya previews at the end of the chapter so yep. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Okay, okay, okay, I don't CSI, I admit it.**

**C****hapter Eight: Tale of the Two Teases**

* * *

Sitting miserably on the couch, Sara Sidle chewed at her finger nails, a habit that she hadn't been prone to use in years. But she supposed it was just the jittery feelings inside of her that caused her to want to eat away at them.

It wasn't that she didn't want to spend two weeks with Greg Sanders; it was just the fact that they were completely alone for two weeks that she had a problem with. When others were with them it was fine, they got along smoothly, not to mention they seemed less prone to embarrassment. But when they were alone, it was like everything completely changes. Then again, it rather did;

Something awoke in her while it was just them, kind of, like a monster living inside of her she didn't realize was there before. A monster that wanted nothing more than for her best friend to take her – a rather frightening feeling to say the least. It wasn't that she wanted to feel that way- because she honestly didn't, she just did. It was something that she couldn't control, and what was even worse, Sara was beginning to think that Greg was starting to feel the same way to.

Little did she know though, Greg Sanders had been feeling this way for a very long time.

* * *

He watched her from across the room, chewing on his bottom lip as his hands fiddled to find something to do. 

"Keep the mind busy Greg, keep your mind on other things," he whispered to himself.

But what were there to think about other than that? Nothing stopped his mind from going wild, hell even the kitchen table conjured lust filled thoughts. He wanted nothing more than to be able to throw her down on that table, moaning and wet for him. Greg moaned slightly at the mental image, in a desperate plea for sanity. He had liked her from the moment he met her, but he had loved and wanted her since the moment he became close friends with her. It took an amazing amount of effort and will power to stop himself at times, but lately it seemed to be running thin.

He had hoped in the past, that if possible, if he ever got her it would help him get over her, just move on. But now he knew more than ever that the only thing that last night did was make him crave her more. He had finally learned he would never be able to love another woman; Sara Sidle was his one and only, but how was he to make her see that?

The obvious thing to do was to hold down the intense cravings for her for the next two weeks, show her he loves her without getting physical. Which was a hard task, slightly beyond hard to be completely honest. Every few moments the memory from last night played repeatedly in his head. What excited him immensely was that _she _started it, but what that exactly meant he wasn't sure.

"Greg?" she asked in a faint voice.

He gave a wide smile and bounced characteristically on his heals. His eyes lit with the same twinkle as always, his expressions not unusually out of place. Just by judging on outer appearance, you would have never guessed that he was fighting his demons inside. But then again, when can one ever judge by outer appearance? You never can, masks of smiles are all to common, when inside they are fighting back feelings of all kinds, tears and even battling themselves.

The demon inside him became ever more confidant, raring its head in pride as he turned to face her. Her full, pouty lips begging to be well kissed, and her night shirt slipping slightly off her shoulder. Her hair was tousled, perfect to run his fingers through and take in the sweet sent of green apple shampoo. She was plain by others standers, she had nothing special on, she wore no make up and her hair was not fixed to perfection. But Greg wasn't like the others. In his eyes, she could have never looked any sexier than she did at that very moment.

She simply took his breath away. They were no words to be said, no sentiments to be given, or even an action to be taken. He couldn't move, he couldn't think, he couldn't get his eyes off her. She could try every look possible, she could have plastic surgery, and get braces to fix her imperfections; but then she wouldn't be his Sara. She wouldn't be his beautiful, powerful, independent Sara. He didn't want her to change anything about herself, because to him, they couldn't be anything closer to perfection than what was in front of him right now.

"Greg? Why are you staring? Do I have something on my face?" she asked amused.

"No, but you look like you have been through one hell of a night," he teased.

"I have been through one hell of a night alright."

"If I were you I would feel privileged," he pointed out.

"Why?"

"Because," he started sitting beside her, "You went through one hell of a night with me."

She smirked and watched him for a moment, a look of amusement in her eyes. "See that's the thing Greggo. Anyone would look like hell after a night of sleeping with you. Your horrible, you talk in your sleep, kick, snore, oh and you drool too."

"I do not talk in my sleep!" he protested.

"Really? Sure about that?"

"Perfectly positive."

She sat up on her knees, and crawled toward him. Her breath loud and raspy, lips millimeters away from his own. Her eyes half closed, she tilted her head and opened her mouth slightly. His heart began to race inside of his throat, and had lost all control of his own breathing.

"How good did I look in that leather Greg?"

And she backed away.

Greg sat rooted for a few moments before jumping up and moving toward the kitchen in haste.

"So, what do you want to do tonight?" he asked loudly.

"Going to get our things would be a great start," she said happily.

"Well, how about ordering some pizza and watching a movie afterwards?" he suggested as he fiddled with his keys.

"Sounds like a superb idea."

Sara jumped off the couch, and adjusted the clothes Catherine had let her borrow. After running her fingers through her hair and slipping on some flip-flops, she followed Greg in suite out the door.

"Damn tease," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Nothing."

* * *

After a rather long stop at Greg's apartment, which consisted of a long search for his bottle of knew hair gel, the two finally made it to Sara's home. While Sara rummaged through her draws trying to figure out exactly how much of which she would need, Greg surveyed the area out of sheer boredom. 

"You could come in here and help me!" she suggested.

"No I am fine."

Rolling her eyes, she began to pick at her lingerie, deciding on packing on her very best, matching sets. After folding them carefully and stowing them away, she put away each outfit that she had laid out on her bed.

Greg decided to finally enter her room after a long self tour. She glanced over at him as he leaned against the door frame.

"You know-" she started. "It would go a lot quicker if you helped."

"No, you seem to have it under complete control."

"Fine, I am almost done anyway."

After crossing the room to grab her packet of pregnancy pills on her dresser, she made her way to her bag when, he came over and snatched them away from her.

"Greg! Give them back!"

"Sara, Sara, Sara, got something planned?"

"Not that you would know anything about that. No one you have dated has ever had the need for them," she hissed.

"Oh on the contrary, I almost had one last night," he corrected.

Sara felt a lump form in her throat, "Really?"

"Yeah, it would have been great too, but you know what is the worst thing?"

"What might that be?" she asked nervously as she snatched them away.

"Her ex walked in on us. And I will let you in on a little secret.

She saw him advance on her and she backed quickly toward the wall. Looking back on it, she couldn't have made a worse choice than that. No sooner, than she had reached the wall, he leaned his hands over her, propping himself up and pinning him under her. In the same stature she had earlier that day, he leaned down, his lips so close to her she could practically feel them burning on her own.

"She turns me on even when she looks like hell."

And he walked away.

After a few minutes to adjust and regain her posture, she shakily grabbed her bag and followed him out the door.

"Damn tease," she muttered after she locked the door.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

* * *

A/N: Lol well I hope you liked it! Review!

* * *


	9. Chapter Nine: I Can Understand

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: What does black panties, Catherine Willows, and a pool, have in common? Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are about to find out.**

**A/N: So sorry for the lack of updates, finally got it done though. Sorry also for deleting my other two stories, forgive me but I just couldnt get inspired. this one isnt going to be as long as I had hoped, but I am going to work on more frequent updates, probably another one later in the week. Maybe two if your lucky. Review to get me motivated to get a move on with writing!**

**Disclaimer: Fine! You caught me! I don't own csi! Happy now? **

* * *

_For the next two weeks, Diane tried to ignore Jordan as much as possible. When he called her name, she simply engaged in an intense conversation with the person beside her, or find she has a sudden and intense need to go use the restroom. It wasn't that she didn't have a good time that night, she had an immensely good time with him._

_That's what terrified her to the point when she saw him in the hall, she turned around and ran the other way. Even getting to the point of taking the long way to all of her classes, just incase their was the slightest chance she would meet him. _

_It confused the hell out of her. He was everything she had hated. He was arrogant, conceded, and egotistical. All he thought about who was he next fuck was and what to brag about at lunch today to the idiot 'fan club' that followed him around campus. He didn't have real friends, he didn't want them, and he didn't need them. All he enjoyed were having idiot minions on his tail. _

_That's all she was to him right? Just another piece of tail, that was just out of reach? Right? He didn't actually have real feelings for her right? He was just obsessed because she neither had needs nor wants to have him. Right? She didn't actually want him . . .right? _

_So, maybe the sweet and shy Jordan who was the single parent was slightly attractive. Maturity she found intensely attractive, and she had regretted that attraction since the day she developed it. Now even more, all she could do was hope and pray that she wouldn't have to deal with the 'mature and thoughtful' Jordan anymore._

_That's all she could do._

_And for the next few days after their evening together, her thoughts seemed to be confirmed. From the moment they parted out of class, her mind instantly went into overdrive. She almost automatically thought that it was just another show to try to get her. She even went as far as to think that he might have borrowed the kid from a cousin. But she instantly new that was wrong, that kid no since in denying it, his. From her soft facial features, to her hair, to those amazing smoky eyes was all inherited from her father. She was the mirror image of her father- not entirely a bad thing honestly. She could deny he was attractive, he was immensely attractive, but his attitude and personality however, was not. He was a father, but the sweet man who had talked to her and helped her through after breakup breakdowns, was nothing but a shadow._

_For the next day he acted as he always did, parading around the school halls as if he owned them. She couldn't tear her mind away from the person she had spent time with, could it possibly be the same man? So different people rolled up in one shell. It was almost to much to bear. _

_She found herself watching him after a while, going out of her way now to go in routes that she found him most of the time. Eating at his favorite diner and studying outside in the courtyard where he and his groupies sat, fondling each other. He as like he always had been, and that burned her inside. Why wouldn't he be that man she had seen, for however brief of an instance? Was he that afraid just to be the amazing person he could be?_

"_Stupid biggoting idiot," she muttered one day after class. _

_It was one warm day after her normal classes. Diane and her best friend, Jenny, decided to do the rest of their homework in the courtyard, where much to her luck, or rather ill luck, Jordan sat glued to the face of another overeager blond. _

"_Come again?" Jenny asked confused._

"_Him! Can't he leave his lips to rest just a little bit?" she hissed._

"_Obviously not," she replied not all to enthused with the conversation._

"_I mean really! Do you ever think he needs to breath? Just on occasion. Maybe if he got his mind off ass and tits he would realize how much he is missing in life?"_

"_Like what, sitting in a courtyard sulking as you watch the guy you have become overly obsessed with make out with some whore with very nice velvet panties?" she asked sarcastically._

"_Velvet panties!" she screeched. She shot over a quick glance; she saw he had spread out her legs beneath him for the world to see his hand rising slowly upwards._

_Jenny rolled her eyes, completely fed up with the turn of events and completely disgusted she didn't catch the 'overly obsessed' part. _

"_Oh Lord Voldemort!" she huffed slamming down her copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. "Why do it surprise you? That is who Jordan is! Everyone knows that he gets more ass than anyone in school! That's all he cares about! Get over it!"_

"_You have no idea what you're talking about! He could have more to him!" she protested._

"_Yeah right, Like Draco Malfoy secretly loves mudbloods."_

"_Stop with the Harry Potter references! I've read the books too, the series ended a while ago. The point is, maybe he would be a good person if he got his head out of the thoughts of pussy for a while! Maybe he is a different person on the inside!"_

"_Who are you joking? Is this really Diane Sanders? It can't be, because Diane hates him!" She argued, her voice getting a bit to loud. The two in the corner had stopped eating each other's faces and now sat quiet watching. She threw her hands in his general direction and she stood up facing her. "Diane wants nothing more than to personally throw him into the flames of hell because all he wants is a good fuck. Who are you? What happened to your theory his motto was "Get in, Get off, Get out"?"_

"_Maybe I have found out different," she said in barely a whisper._

"_You talk like you're in love with him. I don't know what the hell has gone on with you, or what you have 'realized' or how you did, but I hope you get your mind out of the clouds, and stop being jealous long enough to realized that whatever he showed you isn't real. It's just another desperate attempt to get the one girl he wants the most, but can't get. But who knows, maybe the impossible is possible after all."_

_For the next two weeks, almost a month since the encounter, she did nothing but study and spend time with her grandmother. With summer break quickly approaching, she had decided not to sign up for any classes, just to stay away and hide from everything that confused and hurt her. She hadn't spoken, or even glanced at Jenny or Jordan since the argument. Granted Jordan and Jenny did not attempt to speak to her either. Even though Jordan made it, apparent he understood the entire argument by not kissing, flirting, or even engaging in conversation with anyone of the female species. Although that included, she was the only one he looked at her elongating moments. She couldn't bear to make eye contact either, so she simply ignored it, or at least tried to. _

_But even if he had changed, it didn't make her change her new schedule. She still ate at his restaurant, and studied in clear view of him. _

_One day, after unable to find him in the courtyard, she headed to the once again forgotten library spot. Just as she made her way toward the back, she stopped and shot behind one of the near bookcases. She peered through a small crack between the books and her heart began to race. It was him, he was in her spot. Just wanting to see if he was alone, she widen the crack, unaware that she was close to knock the books in the floor._

_It pierced the silence like a gunshot. She immediately ran to the shadow in the back, just quick enough to get out of view before he walked past her and exited the library. After composing herself, she made her way to her spot to find a small note on her chair._

_**Diane, **_

_**We have avoided conversation for far to long. If you still, or ever did for that matter, wish to know the more mature side of me, please meet me tomorrow afternoon at 6 here. If you don't, I understand. But if you do, I promise you wont regret.**_

_**Jordan**_

_In silence, she sat against the book case, pondering at one line._

_If you still or ever did for that matter, wish to know the ore mature side of me. _

_Did she? Yet another question that she didn't know._

* * *

It had been almost three days since he had pushed her against the wall, three days and things had only progressed to worsen. Instead of teasing, now they had fell into attempts to avoid each other. Sara found herself waking up in early morning to take rather long and uncalled for jogs to get away in hopes to shave a few hours of sexual tension away. She had never been an athlete, but it seemed to burn off the kindling steam. While Greg, infact was finding himself doing the same thing. Using up all of Catherine's groceries to perfect the Norwegian recipes his grandmother had gave him. Spending way to many hours in the pool practicing his backstroke and actually breaking his record of self love in one day.

All in all, it was getting rather desperate around the house. The only spoke over rather awkward meals, and barely spoke at all while they watched a movie together at night. Maybe mentioning something about the movie, and a quick goodbye, really that was pushing it during the forced time together.

All Sara found self thinking about was those ripples of wet muscles sliding under her fingers, or that forceful kiss that made her knees fall out from under her. His hard length pressed against her thigh from under the thin boxers. She blushed at every thought and felt his gaze on her to often for complete comfort.

It was just another night, precisely four day since the beginning of their awkward adventure. Sara curled up on the couch as the Notebook began to play from the large TV. Greg and herself were once again, as far from each other as possible on the couch, but that didn't stop them from the subtle glances or unwanted thoughts.

"Sara what do you think would be different if you had went on that break with me?" He blurted out.

"What break Greg?"

"That break I asked you about. When I worked in the lab. You were on the serial case about the poisoned man."

"Oh that! What about it?"

"Do you think we would have ended up different if you had went with me? If- if you had kissed me?"

"Greg what do you mean? Why are you asking me this?"

"Just forget it," he muttered as he got up and proceeded up the stairs.

"Greg! Greg wait! What are you talking about? What about the movie?"

"Forget it Sara. And I am sure that you would like the movie better without me."

And he slammed and locked the door.

* * *

The next morning Greg found himself in a worse mood than ever. He trudged toward the kitchen in nothing but his boxers. He was too tired, to cranky, and aching in to many places from Lindsey's twin bed to care. After grabbing a cup of coffee, which obviously meant Sara had left, he leaned up against the counter. After a few moments, a piece of paper caught his eye. Slowly he pulled it forward.

_Greg_

_If you still want to make up that date of ours, meet me at the Fantasy Night Club and Casino at 8. I can understand if you don't, but if you do come, you wont regret it. I promise. _

_Sara._

Did he want to?

Of course he did, he would be any idiot if he didn't. Now only one question remained, what would he wear?

Just at that moment, Sara jogged through the back door. She leaned up beside him, smiling, and asked, "So what are you wearing tonight?"

Suppressing a goofy grin he spoke, "Who said I'm going?"

With a smirk, he grabbed his cup and left the room.

Of course he was going.

Of course, he had no idea what to wear.

All he knew is he loved teasing her. He loved making her happy. He loved being with her. He loved her period. He might get frustrated sometimes and let pent up sexual frustrations get the better of him, but some things were sure to never change.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the less humor, and less lust, but I got inspired to write this so their it is. Next chapter will be about Diane, I am thinking about that only Diane next chapter. Greg and Sara will have the chapter after that, souly to thereselves. I hope you liked it. Review, keep me motivated (and yes that means all of you on the alert and favorites lists)**


	10. Chapter Ten: Without A Reason

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: What does black panties, Catherine Willows, and a pool, have in common? Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are about to find out.**

**A/N: Well here is the new chapter, its completly future so I hope you enjoy it. Read and Review as always.**

**Disclaimer: Okay, okay, okay, I don't CSI, I admit it. **

* * *

_She knew the symptoms; she had the exact same herself when she was young. She was having man trouble. But it seemed more than that, almost as if that someone else had caused it, or rather, caused her to really let it register. She really had no clue what, who or why her daughter was sulking about, or for, but she knew that with another crack at the computer she would get her to open up like a soft shell taco- not that she would ever eat one in the first place. Despite her age, she was still a dedicated vegetarian. _

_She slowly moved, her joints creaking as they always did. Making it into her small chair, she pulled up the program that held her precious memories inside. It wasn't that she minded Diane reading them; it was just that it was her memories. Even to this day not a soul knew how the couple came to be. They all had suspicions granted, but not a soul, not even Nick, their loving and trusting friend, knew about the steps they made to get to where they were. _

_She let the memories fill her, swallow her up and taking her by force. Every memory, every dream, every weakness she had of him all came back, and she was a venerable and ready, almost like she was renewed, as she was years and years ago. Almost like, she was when it all began. _

_And through the house, the small sounds of dim peaks on the keys could be heard, way into the night._

_

* * *

_

_Her ears had become well trained to the sound of her grandmas slow and soft pecks onto her laptop. Normally she would have been ecstatic – literally running to see what memory she had cooked up next. It had become quite the addiction, her grandmother's memories and all. Just listening to such a romance, rocky as it may be, or as smooth as well, had captured her from the beginning. Could such a thing really exist? A romance so pure, so dedicated? _

_It almost seemed like a piece of fiction, the story of them. Her mother had always taught her that true love never lasts; eventually it dies, in one way or another. But then again, she never set much by her mother either. She had always been her grandmothers girl, perhaps it was because she really knew the man so many proclaimed, she to be his mirror image in so many ways. _

_Who was he? Was he really the man in story seemed to be, or was that just a pretty painted, a work of beautiful fiction? How can a man love so much, feel so much, be so spontaneous, be so adventurous and carefree, yet have so much care and kindness inside him? How could it be possible to find this almost perfect man? And how did some see that she was his mirror image?_

_She laid back on the extra bed, well now her bed since Jenny had officially wanted her key back. She watched the ceiling, fiddling with many things of mind and heart. To follow her heart meant to sit no store for careful thinking, rationality, and the laws she had sat down for herself. Complete disregarded of all knowledge. But to go by her mind meant giving up things that could, be what she was meant to be, to have, after all._

_Why did fate have to intervene?_

_Why couldn't the fates leave her be, why did she have to walk in the library on that day so many months ago? If she had never met him she would never be here? What is the point of all that heartbreak? To lead her to nothing but trouble and confusion. She thought you went through things to find something beautiful, apparently not. _

_She wanted love; she wanted someone to care for ever fiber of her. But how was it possible when everything and everyone seemed to be so set against her happiness? Maybe she should have told Jenny everything after all, maybe she wouldn't have lost a friend._

_But what her privacy? What about her feelings and her thoughts? Did they mean nothing to a best friend? Did she mean nothing to her?_

_Well damn her and her books both to hell. If she couldn't wait and consider her, she couldn't trust her own friend, then she must have not been a true friend after all. Not that it mattered now. _

_She rolled over and watched the clock as it chimed five. He would be leaving soon, waiting for her._

_Was she to disappoint him?_

_A soft knock at the door employed her off the bed and she turned the knob to see her unhealthy, weak Grandma standing before her._

"_Grandma! You shouldn't be up after running about all day! You need rest," she insisted as she led her from the room._

"_Pish posh, Come here for a moment, I want you to see something."_

_She led her closer to the computer, and forced her down in the seat._

_It was a new chapter, but now with everything else, she somehow didn't seem quite so enthused. _

"_Read it. Maybe, if we're lucky, it will open an eye, or maybe two."_

_Furrowing her brows at her Grandmother, but trusting her none the less, she began to read. _

_

* * *

__She watched her Granddaughter for the longest time, as she just stared at the screen long after she had finished. She understood how she felt, with all honesty. Even though she didn't have someone to open her eye with the past as she had for her. She still simply understood how hard it was to take the step, without a little push, or even two._

"_This isn't real?" She asked, "It's to . . .almost identical. It can't be? Cant it?"_

"_It can, and it is. For those four days I had the hardest time facing up to my fears," she started. She sat down next to her taking her hands in hers. "I'm old Diane. I know I don't seem as though I feel it, but I do. More than ever now. It has been long, to long since I had lost him. He was my one and only, the only thing I needed. He completed me in ways no one else could. I miss him terribly, even after so many years after loosing him. I still smell his scent here, I still feel his touch. I still taste his kiss after so many long years. But I never regret it. Even if I knew then, what my actions would lead me to. Years of loneness and uncomfort, I still would. He was the only thing in my life I did right."_

_She paused for the moment, watching her Granddaughter's face melt from confusion, hurt, realization and soften. _

"_So, it never matters what you go to get them, or what happens after you loose them? All that matters is what you feel in the moment, because even if their gone, the memories last forever."  
_

"_Exactly. See, I don't know who this man of yours is, or what has happened. But what I do know is a broken girl, without her other half. I don't even know if this guy is that guy for you. But it's always worth it."_

"_Shit! It's past 6! He will think I have stood him up!" and within a moment, she was gone._

_Sara smiled lightly, sitting back down and continued to type. _

_Her work, for now, was done._

_But it was one of the best times she had in her life._

_She ran closer toward campus, seeing the library building in the distant future. She didn't know why, but all she wanted to do was to kiss him. Take him by the collar and push him into the bookcase, like so many before her did. She really didn't care though, not anymore, and although she had no idea why, all she wanted, was him._

_Running through the door, she greeted the indoors with welcome. Wiping her feet off on the rug, she persisted through the library toward the very back._

_Just before she made it back, she stopped. What would she say? She looked horrible, she was drenched, and she was late. Composing herself, she made her way around the book case, taking in a deep breath._

"_Jordan?" she asked just before she made her way around._

_She was crest fallen. He wasn't there. Had he planned to come at all? It was only 15 after six. Was it just a joke? What had happened that made it so important to stand her up?_

_Fully pissed and completely embarrassed, she turned back around, all eyes following her as she walked out into the fall rain._

_She had took a chance, she had made the step, and fallen flat on her face._

_She wanted to literally fall on her face._

_She wanted to die._

_She wanted to just drown in the rain._

_Falling on the wet, muddy grass, her dirty blond hair falling into her hazel eyes, Diane Sanders began to cry._

_She loved him. And she had no idea why._

_

* * *

_


	11. Chapter Eleven: When Lines Go Dead

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: What does black panties, Catherine Willows, and a pool, have in common? Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are about to find out.**

**A/N: I promise this is the last central future chapter I do before I do I focused present. Its just there is a bit of story to do in the future before I get to the good part when the good part for the present is upon us. I know that we all miss Greg and Sara so I am going to do a little present, not them together but . . . well you will see. Hope you like it!**

**Oh and thank you for everyone who has added me to any alert or favorites list! I really appreciate all the good comments. I am so glad that you all like my stories. I would like to exceed my reviews for First Impressions so all that read the story please review, just a few times in the future. Thanks to everyone! (sorry for the exhaustingly long authors note!)**

**Disclaimer: Alright! I don't own CSI! There you got it out of me! If I did though, boy wouldn't that season finale went different . . .**

**Chapter Eleven: When The Lines Go Dead**

* * *

_He shouldn't have been surprised when he walked into the library and she wasn't there. But he was anyway. He shouldn't have wondered why she didn't come. But he wondered anyway. He shouldn't have sat down and thought where did he go wrong. But he sat down and thought anyway. He shouldn't have let himself cry because he had lost her when he never even had her before. But he cried anyway. He shouldn't have walked to the liquor store and bought bottle of rum and Jim Bean Whiskey. But he bought it anyway. He shouldn't have locked himself up in his room while his babysitter had to spend the night with his daughter while he wasted away. But he locked himself anyway._

_He did a lot of things he shouldn't have, and he knew he shouldn't while he did. But he did it anyway._

_

* * *

_

Greg Sanders had already called his mother six times asking her what to wear. His sister five times consecutively rattling about his date with Sara. His uncle four times four times to ask him about proper conduct and his dad eight times because he was just nervous as hell.

In a word, Greg Sanders had gone lucratively insane.

He had gone on dates before, believe him he did. He had been around the lab a few times, if you catch his drift. It wasn't that he enjoyed bragging about his well, well-practiced 'skills' – at the table or on it – he just accidentally bragged about it. On his other dates, he had been smooth, funny, outgoing, witty and charming. The ever-laid back Greg Sanders with the breathtaking smile- not that he liked bragging about that either. He knew what it was like to be the 'underdog', the 'geek' the 'guy that spent his time on porn sights during high school using 'tom and jerry' instead of getting the 'real deal'. He had been on the loser's side of the fence before.

When he had first came to the crime lab he had been the essence of geek. He was the definition of dork. After watching Nick grab the girls, he had tried his hand at it. I mean come on, how bad could it actually be?

It was worse.

He had failed miserably. The first girl he laid his not so smooth moves on had laughed every time she saw him for a solid two weeks. It was then that he decided to change. After a few visits to a few professionals, he came back better than ever.

He was the new Greg Sanders; well at least he had a new look. He was, not that he bragged about it, hot. He was still the same Greg he had always been, he was just more confident about it. Girls after that had came easier to him, it became a natural talent of his.

But at this moment all that natural talent had just took a very long break and wasn't coming back any time soon. It was all because of her.

He had watched her for years, seven to be exact now. Since had first met Sara Sidle he had been interested in her, not in the fact that she was just average in looks, she had no outstanding features. At first he even considered her a bit less than average- just a bit because of her gap- but because of her period. He attitude, her personality, her aura, everything. It was when they growed older and he got closer to her that he noticed how truly beautiful she was.

He had always liked her, now he loved her. He loved her more than anything he had ever loved before.

He stood there watching himself in the mirror. He looked good, like he normally did. You couldn't tell he was nervous really on the outside, not unless you knew him well. He had his hands in his pockets- a pair of raggedy denim jeans, except for his thumbs that were slipped outside of the pocket grazing his black belt. He wore his brown Panic! At the Disco tee shirt and his denim Abercrombie and Fitch jacket. With his normal pair of Converses and his hair spiked wildly. He looked decent, he looked calm, but he was anything but calm.

He was a wreck. What to say? What to do? What about if he froze up, or said something really stupid? What about if she decided it was a bad idea and left him?

He hadn't been this nervous since his high school prom when he took his neighbor Amy Kilter. He had ended up forgetting his ticket at home and Amy ended up going in with James Bardstone and left him out in the cold. He ended up riding around in the back of their limo for an hour drinking the champagne he had snuck for them from the bottle.

It wasn't a good night.

The limo driver dropped him out on his porch drunk and somehow he had lost his jacket, tie and tee shirt his mother had specially ordered for him. She hadn't been too happy about that.

"Greg? Greg? Are you okay?" came Sara's voice from downstairs.

"Oh yeah. Sorry be down in a minute," he yelled while he checked and made sure he had all his things.

* * *

_Jenny couldn't seem to even close her eyes when the night came back to her again. Something seemed so wrong. It wasn't just the fact that her room was a bit to quiet, or empty. It wasn't that she missed the low blare of music coming from the empty mattress across the room, or that she missed coming in to a new poster of a band she never heard of every night. Something just seemed off, and even though her surrounding was to empty, cold and emotionless, it was the feeling in her heart.  
__  
Something bad was happening tonight. Something terrible was starting tonight. She could feel it. She didn't want to, but she did anyway. And it wouldn't leave. It just wouldn't leave._ _**

* * *

**_

Nick Stokes had never been a nosey man, but when his best friend hadn't called him for three day's strait, he knew that it was time to investigate.

Greg and himself had been close for a while, other than Sara he was Greg's closest friend at the lab. He had known him the longest; he was the one who coxed him to get a job at the lab in the first place. He had been one of the first people Greg told about his crush on Sara to, he had even been begged by Greg to mention good things about him to Sara after the blowout with Hank.

But never in the eight years he had known Greg Sanders had he gone three whole days without talking to him.

He looked over at her sleeping form in his bed- his sleeping beauty. She laid asleep, her head tucked on his chest, his hand slipped around her soft, bare body. He hated keeping them a secret, but he new for now it was best. They had both been through enough to know that it was best keeping them to themselves for now. He laced his fingers with her own as she nuzzled in to him.

He picked up his phone with his other hand, flipping through is phone book until he stopped at Greg's name. He took a moment, watching the number intently. Then slowly, he closed his phone and sat it back down.

There was no investigating needed to be done, he knew what Greg was doing. And he didn't blame him. Everyone deserved to be with the person they loved.

He laid back down in the bed and closed his eyes, her sweet scent filling him.

* * *

_Sara Sidle had been looking for her granddaughter coming through the door for near four hours now. She supposed that she had found what she wanted, but a nagging feeling kept creeping up on her. A feeling of dread and panic._

_She wringed her hands, pacing with the limp and pain in her muscles increasing as she walked back and forth from the door. Something terrible was going to happen. She knew it. Something had gone wrong, she wouldn't go this long without calling her. She wouldn't make her worry like this._

_The phone began to ring from across the room and she hobbled slowly to it. Slowly picking it up, she looked at the caller id. Las Vegas Police Department. Nothing new, they called her regularly for incite on new cases. _

"_Hello?" she answered._

_"Hello is this Mrs. Sanders?"_

_"Yes, who am I speaking with?"_

"_This is Robert Thomas Mrs. Sanders, I am very sorry to inform you of this but there has been an accident."_

_And the line abruptly went dead._

* * *

**A/N: Dun Dun Dun! Don't you love the cliff hangers? Lol I know you don't but you hopefully love the chapter and love me so review, review, review! And I will update sooner and hopefully get the answer to that cliff hanger I have left you with!**


	12. Chapter Twelve: Behind The Blue Rope

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: What does black panties, Catherine Willows, and a pool, have in common? Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are about to find out.**

**A/N: Hello all! Terribly sorry for the wait but I am back with a new chapter! Yeah, yeah yeah, I know I promised a fully present chapter, but I lied. At the very end there is a bit of future, but I plan on the next chapter to be most present and a bit of Sara from the future. I do have quite a bit of a story line left in the future but we are running toward the end of the story line here. We have a bit to go in the present, but the story line runs longer. OH that reminds me, I am going on vacation tommorow, so I don't believe we have internet access so Im terribly sorry BUT i do tend to write alot at the beach (ocean gives me insperation!) so except a new chapter coming up next Sunday! **

**Disclaimer: Alright! I don't own CSI! There you got it out of me! If I did though, boy wouldn't that season finale went different . . . **

* * *

Sara wasn't completely sure why it was taking Greg so long to get ready. After all, she was the female, wasn't he supposed to be waiting for her and not the other way around? Then again it was Greg, so she didn't quite understand why she was even surprised by it in the first place. 

She had always been a plain girl, and Sara had always believed she had been this way since birth. She had never taken the time that others did, just to put on more makeup than was ever necessary. She had never been much for dressing up either, most of the time she was the most comfortable in a pair of jeans and a tee shirt.

When she did dress up she did it for very important occasions, tonight being one of them. She had taken forever just to decide what outfit to wear; she had decided on eventually on a black halter dress that went to mid-thigh with a pair of black knee high boots to match. Fake leather mind you- she just didn't eat meat, she didn't believe in animal cruelty for clothing either.

"Greg?" She asked, letting her voice carry up the stairs.

No response.

Sara frowned, what was with him? Did he get last minute cold feet? She tapped her feet on the floor, trying to push away the image of hilarity of Greg jumping out his two-story window out of fear of herself. She let a wicked grin through, even though she was getting extremely agitated.

"Greg?" she called again, this time a bit louder. "Are you okay?"

Finally after several minutes, a strained response reached her ears. "Oh yeah. Sorry be down in a minute."

She started to roll her eyes, but when she heard his door click closed she stopped gazing up at the stairs where he should be at any moment. Her stomach started doing flips as she heard his feet pad against the floor, making his way into her view. She tried to look normal, calm and at ease, but as her hands threatened to shake, she let them grip the end of the staircase.

When she saw him it was one of those moment you are tied between taking your date out and being a very proud person with them, or ripping off all there clothes and getting happy the _other way_. Although Sara would love to take Greg out, and give those watching girls the 'he's mine not yours' look, she would love the latter as well.

She was a bundle of mixed emotions, confusion, want, guilt, and nerves all bunched into one body. One might question how long you would remain sane with that many emotions running through, and Sara had her doubts you would remain that way for long. He gave her a knowing grin, and for the first time in her life she wished she were just like Greg Sanders. He seemed so relaxed, at such ease she felt damned for her momentary case of the nerves.

Smiling back, she made a sour attempt at starting up a conversation, but it was a failed attempt as she began to open her mouth and quickly closed it back. Just in the mortal fear that she would say something to embarrass herself father.

"_Doors_," she thought to herself, "_Lock doors_."

"That might be a good idea," he mused.

"_Damn! Said that out loud didn't I?"_

"Yes, and you did it again."

Sara rolled her eyes, at herself more than anything, as she made sure the backdoors were locked and shut tightly. Grabbing her purse on the kitchen counter, she trudged her way to the front door, mentally counting off the things that needed to be done before leaving. So lost in her own thoughts, she barely noticed that the bouncy blond had gotten in front of her and opened the door for them.

"My lady," he announced bowing as she went through the door.

Sara mumbled a feeble thank you as she made her way to the car, blushing all the way as her mind refused to let the mental images of what Greg would look like in bed alone.

The ride to the nightclub was a very unexciting one. Maybe if this had been her first time riding with Greg, it would have been quite amusing; but the head banging, screaming and dancing not so subtly to the compact disks he constantly changed was quite normal to her now. He soon began his long amount of trivia on the songs and the 'did you knows' of the artists. Sara had learned quite readily that you must nod and 'uh huh' your way through the 'did you knows' or you will find yourself sitting for hours on end to his constant babble to explain it all.

Some things actually interested her though, and it was a pity that she had to skip over the information that caught her eye. But Sara did want to get a few drinks and dances in tonight, not standing around listening to Greg ramble for hours- even if she had admitted to herself on several occasions that it was slightly adorable to watch.

The lights of the busy streets of Las Vegas soon came into view as they left the large array of suburbs behind them. Sara soon began to wonder as they began to pass many of the more popular casinos, if Warrick and some of the other boys were out on the town. And if they were, would they recognize Sara and Greg- or what was worse that the two coworkers were on an actual date? She liked Greg, a lot, she had admitted that much to herself, but coping with the constant teasing she would be sure to endure and the 'I told you so' or 'Greg always gets the girls- even the impossible ones' would be too much to bear. She would have to listen to it for weeks, she wasn't as oblivious as she seemed. She knew that the entire lab- the CSI"s, Sofia, and Jim included- had a bet going on for years on how long it would take Greg to snatch the 'only girl he ever loved'.

And she didn't like that fact the best. That was one of the main reasons she had denied it for so long.

Greg's phone began to buzz beside them. After the first few rings, it became clear he wasn't planning on answering the call. A few moments later whoever he was avoiding began to call again, and it seemed for a moment he was going to answer the call, but quickly sat back down the phone and decided against it.

"Are you going to answer that? Is it the lab?" she asked.

"No, no just . . . just my Grandmother. Worries to death."

"Why would your Grandmother be worrying about you? She lives in New York."

"She- she- she calls me every night."

Sara nodded and resumed watching out the window. She knew for a fact his Grandmother hadn't called Greg for months. She knew- she was with him for the most part of her slightly dull life. She tried to push down the feeling of dread, the creeping suspicions in her mind. A girl perhaps? A girlfriend perhaps? Or his friends giving him advice so they can win the pot of money at the lab?

Somehow, on the next ring, she would bet her entire fortune- if she had one- on the latter.

* * *

How the hell does she do it? How does she remain so calm and collected while he was going into fits? Then again, she might not consider this a date, or even worse; she might not even like him. How he would hate it if he tired to dance with her and she mentioned about them being 'amazing friends' or the 'I wouldn't change our relationship for anything'. And not just because Nick was going to chop his balls off if he didn't 'get' her by the end of the week- it was the simple matter his heart couldn't bare it. 

The phone rang for the fourth time when he finally decided he had enough. Turning it off quickly, he slipped the phone in his pocket, silently praying that the lab wouldn't try to get a hold of him. It didn't matter if he was on vacation, or even available to be on call, if you were needed, you were supposed to be there. If you weren't your job was on the line. Hence never turning off the phone except in dire emergencies. This, to Greg, was a dire emergency, but somehow he thought Gil or Ecklie would disagree on that little detail.

He saw the club in the distance and he quickly began to wonder how in the world they were to get in. The line of desperate people seemed to stretch from miles on end. Some of the more important and beautiful people though, seemed to pass the line and was let into the club without a second to wait. He pulled in slowly, where a long line of teenagers in black suits began to offer and bang on his window to park his car for him. Not wanting to find it totaled and the miles ran up a few hours later, he decided it would be best to park it himself.

He soon realized this was a mistake.

Vale Parking Only was the first bunch of spots where it seemed; he might be the only one to not park the car with the hired teenagers. He was forced to park back behind the other spots, where other spots had been available. He might have been able to pull it off, and he almost attempted it, then he read the sign where numbers is required to gain access to the cars or the become property of the club.

"Sorry about having to park so far away but-"

"I never let them park my car, I completely understand," she agreed as they began their way to the entrance.

Sara stood close to him; her hand so close to his own he itched to take it, but fear held him back. What about if she didn't want to? He surely would just embarrass himself. But suddenly she did something that made his heart do a nervous flip- she did it for him.

Her palm was warm as it pressed against his own, their fingers intertwining as he began to unconsciously make small circles on the backside of her hand. She looked over at him and smiled shyly, moving closer to him so their sides pressed together in a comfortable and soothing warmth. A proximity that clearly told the men who began to notice her as they moved forward, that she was already taken. He liked that- he liked that a lot.

"Sara- Sara the, the line started back their," Greg whispered nervously as they began to pass the people in line.

"I know," she started, "But we aren't going to the back of the line are we?"

"Sara they wont let us in."

"Why do you say that Greggo?"

"We, we aren't anyone special."

"You don't have to be."

"Yes you do Sara."

"No Greggo, you don't have to be of a special status, when you are a cop," she whispered sly as she showed him her badge, before slipping it into his pocket, as she didn't bring a purse.

The guard at the front was a tall, beefy man at least twice Greg's height and four times his size. His bald, white head and large black goatee mustache matched with an array of what supposedly were prison tattoos gave him a terrifying demeanor. He held the little blue velvet rope, which when passed led through the large silver doors, which glowed under the sign that read _Fantasy Night Club and Casino _in blue neon lights.

"Where do you think your going hotshot?" he asked as they approached the rope.

"In the club, where else?" Sara asked.

"You go to the back of the line."

"But you just let in those girls-"

"I don't make the rules. Lady back of the line."

"I didn't want to have to come to this," she started sadly. Slipping her free hand into his pocket, she picked up her badge, flipping it open and showing it to the large man.

"Can you move the rope please?" she asked pleasantly.

The guard made no reply in words- but his actions spoke loudly. As quick as possible the rope became unhooked and he nodded vigorously toward the couple as they began to pass. He was visibly shaken at the idea of denying 'America's Finest' as he continued to nod as they passed through the large silver doors.

* * *

_Sara picked up the phone, but the dial tone had gone out. Glancing out the window, the storm was beginning to pick up and her nerves were put in hyper drive. The poles must have been knocked down. Which meant they were no need to even check for signal on her cell, it was useless in this storm. Driving would be near impossible and she didn't even know who had been in an accident or what kind. Whoever it was, she wasn't even sure if they were alive. _

_She rung her hand nervously, pacing quickly with a slightly hobble as her cane was left forgotten propped against the wall. She bit her lip, looking out the window every few moments and brushing back a stray wisp of white hair absentmindedly. _

* * *

_The darkness began to grow even more menacingly as hail began to storm down with the rain, with drops as big to rival golf balls. She tried to shield herself from the falling tuffs of rain and ice but the sudden blots of lightning accompanied by a great cry of thunder terrified all her wits to end. A great rush of wind swooped down at her, shaking her to her core. She hugged her jacket around herself tighter as she fought her way toward something- anything that would allow her to come inside before the storm was over. If she didn't she didn't know what would happen to her. She shouldn't have stayed out so long, she shouldn't have waited crying pitifully over rejection. _

_She shouldn't have even come._

_In the distance, she saw two lights shine through the sheet of blinding rain. A car began to swerve and race down the road. Moving over more in the grass, she wasn't sure if the car was going to hold on the road. Her fears were confirmed as the car began to run toward the ditch. She let out a great scream and began to fight her way out of the path of the car and toward the great oak tree. Hoping if she could climb it, she would be out of harms way._

_She was too late as the lights began to shine nearer. The driver had pressed on the gas ever harder, heading straight toward her. _

_

* * *

_

_Jenny felt the panic rising in her throat as all the lights went off in the dorm. With all the phone lines dead, all towers unable to connect with mobile phones, and virtually impossible for her to get out in this weather, she was at an impasse. Diane could be hurt- or even worse. Grabbing her jacket quickly she headed out of her room and down the flight of stairs quite unsure of where she was going. _

_The rain fought against her and the wind seemed destined to blow her off course just as she left the building. A great bolt hissed and cracked as it lit across the sky and Jenny quickly made her way upwards toward the top of the hill. She had no idea where she was going, but her feet seemed to have a mind of her own. After what she was sure would have been a much easier walk in nice, dry weather, she found herself standing in front of an older bleak home. An old four door car sat almost rocking because of the wind speed in the drive and the roof above the porch groaned slightly. Taking in a deep breath, she knocked on the door slowly._

_She suddenly knew she should always trust her feet._

"_Is Diane here?"_

"_She isn't with you?" Jordan asked worriedly. _

"_No! I thought she would be with you!"_

"_No, come on lets find her," he said pausing to mummer something to a woman peaking her head out of a door inside. Grabbing his keys she quickly sat herself passenger side and found herself fighting the storm with a man she truly loathed._

"_Where to?" he asked._

_"In this weather? You don't think she would have went out do you?" _

_"Just head toward the library I know." _

_The wheels suddenly gave a great leech and began to hiss across the the wet pavement. _

* * *


	13. Chapter 13: When I Get Where I'm Going

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: What does black panties, Catherine Willows, and a pool, have in common? Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are about to find out.**

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter! I am glad you all liked it! Here is the next chapter, sorry it was delievered late, but I got it to you didn't I? Thrusday my schools back so I will try to update on my spare time, which might be thin considering the classes I am taking! **

**Disclaimer: Alright! I don't own CSI! There you got it out of me! If I did though, boy wouldn't that season finale went different . . . **

* * *

_It was an unnatural cold, one that spread slowly through her, from her toes to her head top. It slowly engulfed her, as the blood trickled down her head and chest. She felt light headed, and the things around her became nothing but blurred colors, the water washing away the evidence of pain. She tried to move, but her limbs laid useless as the blackness engulfed her, taking its sweet time._

_Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to die, at least she wouldn't have to take that physics test on Monday. Maybe they would hold a ceremony for her, like they did when Allen Beckens died of lung cancer. Flowers, and an entire stadium of people, crying along to her favorite song, When I Get Where I'm Going._

_"When I get where I'm going, on the far side of the sky, the first thing that I'm gonna do, is spread my wings and fly." She whispered softly as the blood flowed more quickly from the gaping wound in her head._

_Flying, she hadn't been much for heights. But maybe once she gets there it wont be so bad, having wings and flying might be fun, who knows she might love it when she gets there. Do people have fears in heaven? She didn't know, she hadn't been able to read her Bible much since she came to ULV. She guessed she should have, would God send her to hell because she missed last Sunday's service at the chapel?_

_"I'm gonna land beside a lion, and run my fingers through his mane. Or I might find out what it's like, to ride a drop of rain."_

_Rain, they were plenty of it now. The water began to rise around her, beating down on her broken face. Even if she lived, even if she lived for someone to find her, she wouldn't be the same. She would be sacred, and if someone didn't find her soon, she was afraid infection would set up in the deep gashes in her broken legs._

_"Yeah when I get where I'm going, there will be only happy tears. I will shed my sins and struggles I have carried all these years. And I will leave my heart wide open; I will love and have no fear. Yeah when I get where I'm going, don't cry for me down here."_

_She heard a rattle of bushes, and a swear from in the distance. Even though she knew it wasn't far away, it sounded like a lifetime. She closed her eyes, as the bleeding was heavy now and the blurred shapes made her head spin. The coldness was creeping up her fingers and her legs felt numb now to everything, even the rain._

_"I will walk with my granddaddy, and he will match me step by step. And I'll tell him how much I've missed him every minute since me left, and then I'll hug his neck."_

_She heard someone drop near her and warm hand wiped away stray hairs from her dirt covered face._

_"Hun, speak to me. Please wake up. Please," a voice whispered._

_"Is it you? Are you okay?' she croaked._

_"Yeah its me, I'll be fine. Come on, lets get you up. Jordan! Jordan help me."_

_"No, leave me, its over," she whispered._

_"No, no its not, I haven't got to kick your ass properly because you came out here. We need to get you better and-"_

_"No, its over, I have lost to much blood, I will loose my legs. I am done. I want to go home, I want to see Papa and Momma again."_

_"No, no. I am so sorry I got mad, I didn't mean to I don't know why. You were right, I am a bitch," she whispered._

_"No, your not. You're my best friend, I should have trusted you."_

_"Forgive me."_

_"There is nothing to forgive, just, just sing with me."_

_"I can't let you die! I need you for my physics final."_

_She laughed hoarsely, squeezing her hand with the little energy that she had left._

_"Yeah when I get where I'm going, there will be only happy tears. I will shed my sins and struggles I have carried all these years. And I will leave my heart wide open; I will love and have no fear. Yeah when I get where I'm going, don't cry for me down here," they sung together._

_She could barely feel the tears falling down her face, as her best friend kneeled beside her with tears matching her own. It was hard, but she knew she was lost, there was nothing to be done for her even if they did get her to an hospital. She really had nothing left; her grandmother would be fine without her. She didn't have anything to put in a will, or to leave behind. Just her best friend, that is all she worried about._

_"So much pain and so much darkness, in this world we stumble through. All these questions I can't answer, so much work to do. But when I get where I'm going, and I see my makers face, I stand forever in the light, of his amazing grace."_

_"Listen to me, " she whispered, "Don't regret anything, never look back. Do you remember when we first met?"_

_"Yeah," she started, "We were in kindergarden, you asked me to borrow a cookie and I told you could have it, because once your done I don't want it back."_

_"We always thought of what we would do when we get older. We promised each other that we would be scientists and we would be together forever. You are going to grow up, you are going to be an amazing chemist. You are going to get married, have lots of babies and grow old with the one you love. Don't give up, you are going to die old, asleep warm in your bed."_

_"I can't go on without you. I have never been anywhere without you."_

_"You don't have to, I will always be with you. In your heart, and right behind you. I will protect you. The ones we love never really leave us."_

_"I am going to miss you," she whispered._

_"I will miss you too. Hey, you here that? It's the angels. Their singing to me. Merlin it's beautiful. I wish you could here it."_

_"Bye Jen," she whispered as her best friend laid dieing._

_"Yeah when I get where I'm going. Oh when I get where I'm going, there will be only happy tears. I will love and have no fear. Yeah when I get where I'm going, when I get where I'm going."_

_There was a moment of silence and Diane shook her slightly. Panic filled her and tears rolled out of her eyes. She grabbed her body, dragging it into the car and kissed her forehead. The light was out of her eyes, an unnatural dead look in her misty blue orbs. She took her hands, closing them and with all her might she pulled herself up._

_"I love you Jenny."_

_Walking to the other side, she kneeled beside Jordan, who had been thrown out of the car and whispered to him._

_"Jordan, wake up please. Jennys dead."_

_His eyes fluttered open and he sat up, giving her a tight hug._

_"Come on, we need to call the police, get to the hospital."_

_"There is no reception in this rain, we are stuck."_

_But as she spoke the words, the rain began to ease up, but she knew that her grandmothers phone towers were probably blown over. Taking out her cell phone she dialed the number and prayed for someone to pick up._

_"911 what's your emergency?"_

_"Yes, I have been in an accident. I am across from the LVU library."_

_"Is anyone injured?"_

_"Yes, my, my boyfriend, he is hurt. And my friend she, she's dead."_

_"Their will be police and an ambulance dispatched immediately. Do you need me to call anyone?"_

_"Yes, my grandmother, Sara Sanders she-"_

_"Yes, I know Sara, I will call her and get her to meet you at the hospital. Just hold in and keep pressure on his wounds."_

_"Alright. Please hurry.'_

_She closed the cell phone, and just as the man who had answered the phone ordered, she put her hands on his wounds and held them tightly._

_"Boyfriend?" he asked softly._

_"Yeah, only if you want to be."_

_He leaned forward, leaning up on his hands and kissed her softly on the lips before he laid back down, energy draining._

_"I wouldn't have it any other way."_

_She looked to the clouds where the rain had dispersed, and had traveled westward. She heard the blare of sirens and she looked to the sky again and whispered, "Thanks Jen. I owe you one."_

* * *


	14. Chapter 14: Pure Perfection

**The Consequences of Swimming**

**Rated: M**

**Summery: What does black panties, Catherine Willows, and a pool, have in common? Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are about to find out.**

**A/N: OMG! I am so surprised I am even able to write! As anyone who has read my profile knows, I am a huge Clay Aiken fan. If you don't, then their you go, I am 16, an 'overly passionate' Claymate and dang proud of it. I got to go to my first Clay concert in Knoxville. He as SO AMAZING! I mean he was absolutely amazing. Worth every penny and more. I got to shake his hand at the bus line! I am still floating . . .inches away from him . . . inches away from Clay in pajama pants, a baggy tee, flip flops and wet hair ( he took a shower before he came out.). Anyways . . . hope you like the chapter . . . read and review while I continue being giddy.**

**Disclaimer: All right! I don't own CSI! There you got it out of me! If I did though, boy wouldn't that season finale went different . . . **

* * *

The sun was bright, bearing down on the backs of the people going to and fro beneath the wisp of clouds that hung low in the sky. A gentle, dry, breeze flowed through the landscape as people climbed into their high-priced cars driving off to a day off work, and Jessica Miller packing down the car for a long trip to North Carolina for her second and last concert of the summer. 

She straightened up her tee shirt, picking a piece of lint of the words "Official Fan Club" and leaned against the car. It always took a ridiculous amount of time for her mother to pack up, honestly being gone for a few days and she behaved like she was leaving the house for a month.

Rolling her green orbs, she catching the neighbor's lawn out of the corner of her eyes. The woman who had owned it, Ms. Willows, had taken her daughter, mother, and supposed 'significant other' on vacation this week. Her daughter, her name escapes her because she never really liked her in the first place, always felt the need to gloat loudly about her new home. Why, Jessica never knew, since the fact remained that they had a house exactly like it. A car was drove haphazardly in the drive, wheels leaning into the wet grass. A pair of high healed knee boots was thrown into the lawn beside the stepping stones, a wet jacket lying near the door along with a dropped pair of keys and a what _looked _like a pair of black underwear, but from the distance she couldn't be sure.

Her mother came bustling out of the house locking the door and rushing into the car with no time to waste. She thought as she passed the house maybe to mention the mess to her mother, but she readily decided against it. She had a good idea how that got their- and she wasn't to excited to tell her mother why she thought of it in the first place.

* * *

When Sara opened her eyes the next morning, she instantly regretted it. Her back ached as well as her head, but what hurt even worse was the throbbing pain between her legs. She groaned, not daring to open her eyes and laid her head on her soft warm pillow. It moved up and down, breathing gently against her bare skin. 

Wait.

Pillows. Don't. Breath.

Her eyelids shot open, much to the protest of the sun. She was on top of something- but even worse still. That something was naked. That something was Greg Sanders.

She looked down at her self, then back to Greg and her body flooded with fear. Not for possibly being pregnant- not even that she had sex with her best friend. She was panicking because she couldn't remember- she couldn't remember a thing.

Sara didn't dare to move, in fear she would wake the man below her. She looked down at him, taking a moment to admire the sleeping god below her.

God was an understatement. She wasn't sure how to explain it, but he surly had to be the best thing she had ever looked at. She couldn't help herself when she took a peek below the waist. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her chest. _That _was why her legs throbbed- to bad she couldn't remember it.

She positioned herself again as she was and he wrapped his arms around her, flipping her over, pushing himself flush against her in her sleep. She felt him against her thigh and she did everything she did not to even breath, not trusting herself the least bit. She took her hand shakily, wrapping them around his neck and gave him a gentle kiss on his neck.

* * *

_Flashback_

"_Sara?" a voice called from the shadows._

_Sara turned around, beer in her hand, breathing heavily as she watched Greg making his way to her with a drink of his own. _

"_Hank?" she asked softly, not trusting her voice after the fourth beer._

"_Yeah its me. You look great Sara."_

"_Thanks," she said stiffly._

"_I take it he is your date? George isn't it?"_

"_Yes, and its Greg."_

"_Oh, yeah well whatever. What I really wanted to do was apoligize. It took me a while to figure out what I did wrong. I am sorry for what I did to you. I am a changed man now, I married her and she knows everything. We just had a son, Aaron, a year and a half."_

"_Thank you Hank, and good luck with your son."_

"_Thanks Sara. See you around."_

_Hank walked away, and Sara felt surly tonight was the best night of her life. Or at least she thought so until she saw an angry face fuming beside her._

_"I thought this was our date? Going back to Hank?"_

_"No Greg-"_

"_Well, I thought after one round you would get enough-"  
_

"_Greg! He wasn't trying to get me! He was apoligzing. I don't want him."  
_

"_Oh so you want Grissom again, never good enough am I?"_

"_Greg! You idiot-"_

"_I guess I never was-"_

_"I want you! Not Grissom! Not Hank! I want YOU."_

_Suddenly she felt herself slammed into the bar, with a flush pair of hot lips against her own._

* * *

"Morning love," he whispered. "Had a good night last night?" 

"Apparently," she started, "My legs are throbbing like hell. To bad I can't remember it."

"Maybe," he whispering as he flipped her under him. He pressed his lips against her ear, letting his breath tickle her neck, "I can help you remember it."

"I'd like that."

Sara grinned inwardly as his lips met her in a rush of emotion again. "_Surly_," she thought, "_this is the only way to wake up_."

And from that day forward, this was exactly how Sara Sidle woke up. Wrapped tightly, in the arms of the man she loved, pure bliss, pure perfection.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15: Flight 297

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: What does black panties, Catherine Willows, and a pool, have in common? Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are about to find out.**

**A/N: Hey everyone! So sorry I haven't updated in a bit. I had aimed to update this weekend, but I had a family reunion and my aunt and cousin stayed with us so no time to update! Hope you like it, only 1 or two chapters left! Review please!**

**Disclaimer: Alright! I don't own CSI! There you got it out of me! If I did though, boy wouldn't that season finale went different . . . **

* * *

When Catherine Willows arrived home, she had a few things bearing down on her mind. With Lindsey in the back seat, arguing about what made a good musical artiest with her seventy-year-old grandmother, it would seem hard to concentrate on so many things at once. But Catherine managed it, since the things on her mind was so important. She imagined her house was burnt down to the ground by now, not that she didn't trust Sara, she just really didn't trust the overly excited ex lab rat that much in her home.

And yet, that wasn't the only thing on her mind, the next even worried her more than the house. She had hoped, that she would find her beside table a bit let empty of 'personal' items when she returned, but if it didn't, either things went really bad or Sara was going down the road of pregnancy.

She was very surprised to find her home in good of shape, as it was when she left it. And even more still, Greg and Sara were in one piece. What she hoped was, when Sara went home, she wasn't taking an extra piece with her.

"So you all had a good break?" she asked smiling.

Greg looked over at Sara, and Catherine felt a not wad up in her chest as Sara gave him the look back. That look she knew very well, the look that clearly stated, I have had sex all day, and even if my legs ache like hell I want to have another go.

So much for the 'not taking an extra piece with her' theory.

* * *

_When Jordan awoke, he thought surely he was dead. A white light surrounded him, yet he felt immense pain. It felt as if a large rod was jammed down his throat so tightly he couldn't breath on his own, he lived on. When he opened his eyes, the shapes and figures were blurred. A rush of color ran toward him, its voice blurred, loud and disfigured screaming into his throbbing head. His body was stiff, like three trains and hit him in succession, and he wondered if they really did. For a moment, he couldn't remember what had happened, for a moment he didn't even realize who he was. Then it all hit him, like a city bus. For a moment he wondered whether he had died, and that all the whiteness and pain was an introductory to wherever he had gone. And theoretically he should have been, but he knew he wasn't._

_And with a stabbing pain in his leg, he let out a blood-curling scream and felt himself being back into the darkness, with only one person on his mind. Although is side passenger was on his mind, it wasn't the first and most troublesome worry, no not even the poor person who he hit._

"_Diane." He croaked before the blackness took him_

* * *

The next few days proved to be awkward ones for Catherine Willows. It was dreadfully obvious to her, that Sara and Greg had no clue she knew, and completely pointed out that they didn't wish anyone did either. Whether it was fear for what others would think, or the need for a bit of privacy, although she didn't understand, she respected their choice of privacy. She promised Greg and Sara secretively that she wouldn't tell a soul. 

That proved to be a difficult promise.

Others seemed to be just as interested in knowing if their had been a development in their relationship as she had been. Even Bob, who had usually kept his head out of the rumors and daily gossip of the lab, chased Catherine down in the hall to try to get her to spill on Greg and Sara. Everyone seemed to think that she held their secret, and they had every right to think so.

But avoiding the stalking lab rats was nothing compared to the pressure Grissom, Nick, and Warrick gave her. They were just as convinced as the lab techs and seemed even more determined to squeeze the information out of her. By the end of her first day back, she needed another vacation and felt as if she would blow any moment.

But nothing compared to the pressured feelings she got while around Greg and Sara. They, of all people, seemed not to notice the hushed whispers dieing down into complete silence as they passed. They didn't even try to turn their heads to catch the lab workers staring transfixed at them. They seemed, actually, not to notice anything at all.

Although they didn't show it publicly in explicit manners, the look in their eyes let loose all the secrets of their lust. Surprisingly, their attitude as well. Greg had a new spring in his step and back to his old antics. He had more than once been asked who got the bad luck to lay him over break, and yet he never answered the question. Instead he smirked, glancing secretly into Sara's direction.

Sara too seemed to be a new person. As well as actually trying to show pride in her appearance, she seemed like a much easier person to be with. Greg has seemed to rub off on her.

All Catherine wished, not that they would leave her alone, not even that Bobby would stop chasing her, she wished that he hadn't given her something either. Not for anyone's sake but their own. Inter- work relationships were frowned upon and Ecklie looked for any reason to get Sara out of the lab for good.

* * *

_After Jenny's death, Sara had hoped to be able to let her granddaughter cry on her shoulder and let her feel what it felt like to loose the ones you love openly and honestly. But it seemed hardly to go that way at all, in fact she seemed to hardly morn the loss of her best friend. Instead she paced the hospital floor beside the boy's bed, muttering about a little girl and wondering if he was really hungry. She seemed more panicked about his condition than her own, or even her friend's death. Sara didn't much understand it, but she knew better than to question it._

_She sat at the desk once more, the lightly illuminating the room. The gentle drops of rain hit the worn windows, but the woman hardly seemed to notice. Instead her own fresh tear drops slid down her soft cheeks and patted onto the worn floor. This time, their was no document up, no gentle tapping of keys. Only fresh tears and the flashing of the screen as it faded in and out from black._

_Photos- photos of life, photos of marriage, photos of children and photos of a beautiful life that she had been so blessed once to know._

_Now she had no one, not really. Nick had moved to Texas with Wendy after Grissom died, hardly being able to bear his absence in the lab. Warrick had stuck it out until the day he had his stroke and was forced into his retirement. Catherine died soon after Grissom did, unable to stand the grief of Grissom and her mother dieing so close together. Lindsey had grown up to be an actress and took Hollywood by storm, but never forgot to return home and visit the people who once was the 'sick lovebirds' who prevented her from watching Tyra. _

_But none was any worse on her than Greg's death. It had been their thirtieth anniversary and he had been a mere fifty years old. He had taken her to a restaurant called Mon Amour and half way through the second course he had been called in on urgent business since he was now supervisor of dayshift, the only CSI left from their old team at the lab. She had already taken a part time retirement now, much by the force of the lab than her own consent. _

_The next time she saw him he was in a plastic bag._

_On the way to the scene to men had jutted out and ran right into his side, sending him into a tree where the car rolled six times, throwing him out of the car where his body hit the ground in such an impact it stopped his heart._

_The memories were too much to bear, they tore her heart open. Without him, she had never been truly whole. Since his death she hasn't been, and twenty years without him didn't seem really worth it after all._

_Before Sara knew it she had hobbled out of her small apartment and was in her car, driving to where she wasn't really sure. She really didn't know where she was going, but her body knew perfectly well. Soon she found herself parked in the large parking lot and walking, cane forgotten at home like most of the times, and headed toward the reception desk were it the line wasn't to bad after all._

"_One ticket to New York please."_

"_Roundtrip?"  
_

"_No," she started, "I don't think I will be coming back._

* * *


	16. Chapter 16: The Consequences of Swimming

**The Consequences of Swimming **

**Rated: M**

**Summery: What does black panties, Catherine Willows, and a pool, have in common? Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are about to find out.**

**A/N: Well, its finally here, the end of the story. I know, I know, it's sad, but all things must come to an end someday. I am not, prior to my past thoughts, going to make a sequel. I think that some things are best left alone, and this is one of them. I will though, soon be starting a new story, which one, I am not exactly sure but I will be posting a new Sandle story, maybe even start writing a Harry Potter (Remus/Hermione probably) too, I will be updating on my profile so keep a look out if you want to!**

**Disclaimer: Alright! I don't own CSI! There you got it out of me! If I did though, boy wouldn't that season finale went different . . . Chapter Sixteen: The Consequences of Swimming**

**Chapter Sixteen: The Consequences of Swimming**

* * *

It was cold as the trees swayed along to the winds soft hum. The leaves danced above the ground, flipping spastically in the air. The gray sky suggested that a storm brewed in her mist, but she didn't much care about the storms anymore. She had learnt long ago to accept the nature of all things and people many, many years ago. Her long sandy blond hair blew wildly, flying about her face, which was now laced with the thin outline of starting crows feet grazed about her livid hazel eyes. She stepped out on the passenger's side of the large red van and waited for the small, mousy brunette girl to hope out of her seat. 

A blond teen hopped out of the others side, dawning a black vest, long sleeve white shirt, bob and a 'artistic' black hat angled to the right. She waited as her husband, tall, lean and fit as ever to get out of the car and lace his callused hand in her own.

They moved slowly, the foursomes hands interlocked as the walked toward the large iron gate. She hadn't been here since, well that day. The day she didn't much care talking about to be honest. She hadn't really spoken of it since then, and ten years had already come and gone. So many memories had been forged in that amount of time, and her life had changed so drastically since it had been before everything started. But somehow, rather guiltily, she still questioned if it was for the better or worse.

She was no longer the happy, carefree person she used to be. Her death had taught her many things, after they both died and he had a near death episode himself, she found herself turning slightly colder, a bit safer than she had before. She had rarely gone back the old home, only to check on the renters once a month, nor did she ever go back to her old place in the library as well. Her things were boxed up and stored in the attic, where they had been their for teen years. The only evidence of her elders was one small picture frame sat beside her bed.

She stopped at the gate, a tearful gaze as she grasped the knob. The concrete slabs went for miles it seemed past the cold bars. It almost felt to surreal, it couldn't be, could it? She was still home wasn't she? Writing on her 'romance novel' and reminiscing in sweet memories. It seemed to unreal that she had died, that she truly didn't have anyone left to connect with her past.

Jose was now 13, finally reaching the teen angst years. With protests to 'express herself' through 'unique style' and wanting to wear makeup like 'all the other girls. Jose had known since Jordan and Diane married, two years after Jenny's death, that Diane was truly not her real mother, but had never acted as if she was otherwise. She had always said that she was the only mother she ever knew. She was sure her real mother was amazing, but the mother she had now she wouldn't trade for anyone in the world, because blood didn't make love or unbreakable bonds.

Almost ten months after their marriage they were graced with a beautiful girl they named Sara Jennifer Nickelson. She was the mirror image of her grandmother, having the same with and wisdom as Sara herself had once owned with the sarcastic humor and fun loving personality of Jordan and Diane's grandfather. She was now pregnant with their third child, suppose to be a boy and was due in three months. They were planning on naming him Gregory Richard Nickelson.

Even though those bonds were made, the bonds that had been broken still hurt. She supposed that they always would.

Closing her eyes, she clutched the small blue leather bound book in her hand and opened the gate and crossed the threshold.

The walk wasn't to far to the stone. In the middle of the cemetery, a gravestone decked with red roses and picture frames of loving memories that seem nothing more or less than distant dreams and legends now. She closed her eyes and knelt between the graves, touching the names softly as a tear went down her cheeks. She sat a new picture beside a old picture of the team on one of the boring nights at the lab. Sara was sitting in Greg's lap, a small bump on her tummy that was, who she assumed, to be her father, David Sanders.

She wiped of non-existent dirt of the frame of herself, Jordan, her father, and Jose surrounding a five old Sara who had just blown the candles out on her cake. She looked to the new photo she had brought. It had been an old photograph, once that she was but couldn't remember. Her grandfather was scene reflected in a mirror, looking ten years younger than his actual age, holding her stark naked after her daily bath as an infant. Another was one herself, Jenny, and Casey, her cousin, holding Papa's hand at an Easter egg hunt at the local church.

She propped up the leather bound book on her knees and flipped to the last chapter and looked to the grave.

"I finished the book for you Grandma, you would be really proud. People find your story just as amazing as I did. You really inspired people to never give up on love. I thought I might read this last chapter to you before I go."

She crossed her legs and she heard Jordan, Sara and Jose retreating in the distance as the explored, leaving her alone for a bit. She opened up her mouth and began to read softly from the book.

_Some say that I should have taken credit for the story of my grandparents love, but quite the contrary I didn't have anything to do with it at all. Some might even question that I made it up, that it never really happen. I can reassure you all, that I am not the first to write about Greg and Sara Sanders. My grandparents, as well as their colleges were not only famous people in science, but also amazing people who inspired the people who knew them. That is why, as I write the last chapter of the book, I will recount the stories I have found by people who knew them best._

"_I remember when I first met Sara, she was a disgruntle woman who wanted nothing more or less than to immerse herself in her work to get away from everything around her. It sounds bad, but it was the truth. She didn't want anything to do with anyone, and only conversed with our supervisor, Gil Grissom. They had known each other in the past, he had taught her. She seemed to be tolerant around others, but Greg seemed to crack her at the seems. At first, it seemed as if she wanted as far away from Greg as possible. But Greg was just the opposite, he was crazy about Sara from the moment he saw her. I wonder if she hadn't became his mentor if she would have ever seen how perfect Greg was for her."_

"_After Greg and Sara became close, Sara was like an entirely new person. He seemed to give her a life and spark inside of her that she never could have had before. They were perfect for each other, perfect soul mates, the perfect marriage."  
_

"_Greg used to make the worst attempts to woo Sara. While he could use smooth moves on any other woman in the lab, he seemed to turn to goo around her. A man, who graduated from Harvard at 20, with honors and Valedictorian no less, a complete genius, turned to mush around that woman, and only that woman."_

"_I remember when Diane was first born, Greggo paced the waiting from for five hours strait. I was scared he was going for the record to see how long it took him to make his legs fall off. He kept filming hour on hour, giving 'updates' on the birth. He about drove Sar' mad. But when she was born, he practically glowed. He filmed his first granddaughter with pride and ranted wildly about how beautiful she was and even got complete strangers reaction on film. Sara tried to calm him down, but he just couldn't, so eventually she just went along with him. Gone nutters, both of them."_

_People say, that true love never lasts. That true is just a mask that disappears after time, and once it is gone it all falls apart. And while that may be true in someway, I know the exception to the rule._

_If true love ever lived it was with Greg and Sara Sidle._

Diane stopped, tears coming down her cheeks, and placed the book on edge of the stone.

* * *

_Flashback_

_Sara blinked as the light flooded in her lids as she tried desperately to focus. A slightly numb pain began to throb at her thighs and her head was wet with a stick sweet. She began to move her legs, but her muscles screamed with a tense, hot, searing protest. _

"_Love? Poohbear you awake?" he asked softly clutching her palm._

_She gave gentle squeeze back and shook her head tiredly._

"_So did you mean what you said?" he asked._

_"What did I say?"_

"_That you would chop my . . . off personally if I ever touched you again."_

_"Now," she laughed, "You know the answer to that." _

_He hung his head slightly with a pout. She leaned up slowly and took his lips before parting slightly and whispering against them, "I can't keep my hands off you for to long."_

_He took her lips heatedly, slipping his tongue into her hot mouth. He took his hands, running them up her front and she moaned as his simple touch. Her body screamed in pain but she could stop, he was just to much to let go.  
_

"_Now, isn't that what started this in the first place?" a voice sounded from the door._

_Sara quickly parted her lips and gave a glance toward the door where her friends were crowding into the room. Moving over slowly, with the help of Greg, she made room for him to lay with her._

"_Yes, but it is all worth it," they said in union._

"_The consequences of swimming," Nick mused with a shake of his head._

_The room burst out in a fit of giggles and Sara rested her head against Greg's chest._

"_So when will the baby be in?"_

_"Soon I expect," Greg answered, "I suppose one of you could go tell the nurse she is up."_

_"I will," Mandy annoucned, holding her tummy slightly as she left the room._

_"How is she doing?" Sara asked, watching her retreating figure._

_"Pretty good," Nick sighed, "Dreadfully stubborn though. She hates having help, but it's getting to the point where it is hard for her to get around."_

"_I remember that, hurts like hell."  
_

"_The birth does too I expect."_

"_But its all worth it when you hold them in your arms," Catherine added._

"_Then you want to go at it again I expect?" Greg said a twinge of hope in his voice.  
_

"_No, afraid not just yet. At least another year love."_

"_Who wants to see a baby?" asked a voice from the door._

_They all looked to the door, where a short nurse wheeled in a crib and lifted out a small, boy who already had a thatch of brown hair on his head._

_Sara wrapped her arms around him and her heart swelled with a foreign emotion that was almost to much for her too take. Tears of happiness swelled out of her eyes._

_"So this is what it feels like . . ."_

_"What feels like?" he asked._

_"To have everything you could ever want.If this is the conquences of swimming, then I would do it all over again."_

_"Thank, you Catherine," Greg whispered, wrapping his arms around the small boy._

_"I didn't do anything Greg," she started happily, "I just gave you both a shove in the right direction."_

* * *

"By Grandpa," Diane whispered to the silent grave.

Standing up, she brushed off the dirt and met Jordan near the stone, and with his arm wrapped tightly around her, they watched as Sara and Jose walked ahead of them.

"You okay Poohbear?" he asked.

"What did you just call me?" she asked.

"Poohbear, why? Do you not like it? I thought it was cute."

"No- no," Diane assured, "It's perfect."

* * *

**A/N: Also, thank you to all the people who put The Consequences of Swimming and First Impressions on their alert, and or favorite list and reviewed for me. Without you, I wouldn't be able to write successfully! **


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